


When You Inhale I Fill Your Lungs

by TheHatterTheory



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Feudal Era, Fluff, Romance, blind kouga, kagome and kikyou are sisters, maybe? - Freeform, unbetad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25497589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHatterTheory/pseuds/TheHatterTheory
Summary: Kagome has been Naraku's inquisitor for longer than she can remember, as much his prisoner as those she tortures.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/Kouga, background Kikyou/InuYasha
Comments: 11
Kudos: 81
Collections: Sparks Fly in July





	When You Inhale I Fill Your Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> If I don't get this up now it's not going to happen until next week, so, happy week 3 of Sparks Fly!  
> 

“Kanna is coming,” Jinenji said in his rumbling baritone.

Kagome heard the door slide open, braced herself for whatever command would come before turning to look. Kanna stood at the door, staring vacantly and saying nothing. Despite that, there was a sense of expectation about her. Kagome got to her feet.

“Kanna-sama,” She greeted respectfully, bowing.

“Naraku desires your presence in the cells.”

She'd already renewed all of the wards for the day, which could only mean Naraku had found a new prisoner.

“Tomorrow then,” She told the hanyou as he continued grinding the pestle in rhythmic motions.

Kanna didn't lead her after that, as she'd once done. Instead Kagome made her way through the fortress on her own, away from the side that faced the forest and deeper into the building, feeling the temperature drop as the building itself gave way to the mountain it had been built into, and then into the mountain itself, moving lower and deeper in. Even in the dim light of the ghostly blue flames she had no trouble traversing the distance. For years she's crossed it at least twice a day; on bad days, even more often.

It was a bad day.

She knew to look for Naraku, felt out his aura and followed it down, deeper into the mountain. The last time she’d traveled so far, he’d been torturing Muso. Leaving the other cells behind, she heard them before she saw them, the furious sounds exploding up from the tunnel, echoing off of the walls. 

“This one needs extra care,” Naraku said, not even bothering to glance in her direction. A youkai was snarling, a series of intensifying explosions, color and sound and movement inside the cell. Claws and fangs flashed, spittle flying as the youkai threw himself into the bars, tried to reach through, pull them loose. Each movement was desperate, the reikon she'd imbued in the wards barely registering.

“Well?” Naraku prompted.

If she got her hands near him, it was likely she'd lose them.

“You’re wasting time,” Naraku reminded her impatiently.

She moved closer to the bars, reikon already gathering around her hands. Hopefully it would be enough to protect her as she worked. She managed to lay her hands on the bars before the ookami stilled. 

The youkai's eyes focused on her, his clawed hands shooting out to grab her only to be rebuffed by the power surrounding her. She heard as much as saw it burning him, saw him withdraw and almost breathed a sigh of relief.

Then he struck out, hand a blur as it reached for her head. Stumbling back, away from that hand, from the claws clenching reflexively around air, she didn't even have time to scream.

The youkai seemed oblivious to the burns on his hand as he snarled and spat at them.

“Vicious,” Naraku taunted, his smile cruel. “Wonderful.”

* * *

She was doing the morning rounds, renewing the wards when she finally came to his cell. 

He was ragged, clearly hadn’t slept, that he’d spent the entirely of the night trying to escape. He was perfectly still in the center of the cell, what little space there was. Now that he wasn’t moving, she could see the burns her power had left on him, littering a body already covered in wounds that hadn’t begun to heal despite the ability all ookami had. She knew the marks Naraku and his children left, knew who had gone on the raid, who had captured him and held him for the journey to the mountain.

His gaze followed her as she renewed the wards, unchanging in their hatred.

“I'm sorry,” Kagome whispered through the bars, completing the wards. “I'm so sorry.”

“Don't waste time on him,” A new voice said. A guttural sound echoed through the tunnel, the youkai throwing himself against the bars, startling her back to the opposite wall. Bright light sparked in her vision, and she knew it was burning him. Just as he relentlessly pushed against it, it pushed at him, threatened to engulf him. “He's mad from the loss of his pack. Couldn't protect them, could you beast?”

The ookami's face was twisted in a snarling mask of hate, eyes fixed on Kagura.

Even when she moved away from the cell, he didn't look at her, his eyes never moving away from Kagura as she stood there. His howls echoed through the passageways, following her as she fled.

* * *

  
She returned that night, noting the untouched food in the corner. Realizing he wouldn’t trust medicine, she left the small packet of powders in her pocket and began renewing the wards again. Once she finished, she paused in front of him.

“Don't say you're sorry again,” He snapped, watching her from the recesses of the cell. 

“I am,” She murmured quietly, only too used to the prisoner’s hatred. 

“Go to hell.”

“He has my sister,” She said. “He'll kill her.”

The ookami was silent, gaze roiling with disgust. Unable to bear the reproach, she fled back to the upper levels.

* * *

“The new prisoner is being difficult,” Miroku admitted. “Kohaku tried to take him to the main hall and I had to restrain him.

“Is he-” She began, wondering he Miroku or Kohaku had been forced to put him down. It wouldn’t be the first time one of them had been put in that position, and she doubted it would be the last. 

“He lives. He will need Jinenji’s aid.”

“I understand.” Naraku was nothing if not consistent, she wouldn’t even need to see the youkai to know what sort of injuries he’d sustained. 

“I’m going to go with you.”

She was going to tell him it wasn’t necessary, but his trouble gaze halted the dismissal. 

“He’s fast. Kohaku is with Jinenji now.”

“Is he alright?”

“Laid his arm open before I could blink. He’s fast,” Miroku repeated. “Be careful around him.”

She followed Miroku down the path and into the mountain, herbs and bowls in hand. The ookami was leaning into a corner, body covered in burns and blood. Despite that, he was still perfectly aware, seemed completely at ease as he watched her. At least, if one could be enraged and at ease.

She slipped the medicine through the bars, bowls and bottle of water to mix the potions with.

“Just mix the herbs into the water, and drink it. It’ll help with the pain, and help force your healing,” She murmured.

“You think your sister would want you doing this?” He demanded, glaring balefully through the bars of the cell. The medicines weren’t even acknowledged. “You think she would be proud you'd do this for her?”

Kagome stepped back from that hateful gaze.

“My pack would have killed themselves before doing something like this.”

“Don't listen to him,” Miroku said, glaring at the youkai. “He doesn't understand. He doesn't have anything left to lose.”

The ookami’s entire body tensed. “Funny coming from a monk. He got your sister too?”

Miroku said nothing, stalking away, back into the darkness of the tunnel. She watched Miroku vanish from sight before she spoke again, hugging her middle. Despite the bars and wards, she couldn’t make herself meet the ookami’s gaze again.

“Miroku's grandfather was cursed by Naraku,” She said in a quiet voice, not wanting it to carry and follow the monk. “With a void in his hand that eventually grew to consume him. And then it appeared in his father's hand. When his father died, it appeared on his.”

“So he wants it gone? That's supposed to make me sympathize?” Kouga growled.

“Miroku isn't sure if he has a son or not. If it were just him-” She shook her head. “He doesn't want to chance it. And Kohaku is like me, Naraku has his sister. None of us- Naraku has killed people we loved. But he holds the ones we love the most hostage.”

“That doesn't answer my question,” He jeered. “Would they want you doing this?”

Unable to answer, unsure of how to answer, she hurried away from his cell. The sound of the jugs and bowls striking the rock surface of the cave and shattering echoed behind her.

* * *

“He won’t accept it,” She said, watching Jinenji create more of the potion for the ookami.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jinenji shook his head. “Everyone gets medicine. If they choose not to take it-” He shrugged, clearly exhausted. “Can’t make someone.” He completed the potion, setting it to the side and scrubbing his face.

“You’re tired.”

“Kanna and I went out last night.”

She envied Jinenji being allowed to go into the world. The last time she’d been outside of the fortress, she’d been a little girl. The slivers or sky she’d caught were as close to the outside world as she got anymore. “Anything special?” She murmured, taking a seat at his worktable.

It was one of his rare pleasures, explaining the different herbs, were they’d come from, what to do with them to her. Listening to him was one of the rare times she felt at ease, learning from his deep rumble. It was no different today, his large hands delicately preparing an herb for drying.

* * *

“You’re wasting this,” She murmured.

“Trying to kill me?” He asked, tone dripping sarcasm. 

“No.”

“That’s got something off in it, I can smell it.”

“They’re all fresh ingredients-”

“Not that kind of off,” He muttered. “Something weird. I know the forest. Whatever is in there, it’s not natural.”

She glanced down, wondered what it was he could be smelling that made him distrust it. Then again, it could be nothing, and he was still justified not trusting it, or her. “Okay,” She sighed, setting the bowl down. The ookami continued watching her, expression one of constant, lowgrade hatred. 

“He absorbs people,” She murmured. “If you don't start obeying, he'll devour you.”

Kouga didn't respond.

“I can't imagine a worse hell than being a part of him.”

“There it is, the real reason you're his pet,” Kouga sneered. “So much for noble intentions.”

“He can't absorb holy people yet.”

“Yet?”

“What do you think he's doing?” Kagome asked quietly. “Every weapon he collects, every youkai he absorbs makes him stronger.”

“If he's so powerful, why does he care about a weapon created by a bunch of savages?”

“So it's not used against him,” She said. “Or so he can pass it on to one of his creations.”

“Creations.”

“Kagura, Kanna, they were made of him.” She remembered Kagura’s fan from another youkai, a beautiful male that had felt more like a wisp of winter cold than anything else. He’d screamed as he’d been devoured. She’d been forced to watch, horror still pitching her stomach at the memory. Another face, another demon that she heard when she closed her eyes for the night.

“He can create youkai?”

Kagome nodded. “Fashioned from his flesh and spirit. There have been others, but he killed them, or absorbed them again.”

The ookami bit out an oath, gaze moving to the ceiling.

* * *

“Is there something in this, something inorganic?” She asked quietly, staring at the mixture Jinenji had prepared.

“Naraku told me to,” He finally admitted, as if ashamed. “It’s a hypnotic.”

“The ookami smelled it. He won’t touch it,” She finally said, unable to fault the hanyou for following Naraku’s orders. 

“Odd. It’s almost odorless, tasteless,” Jinenji admitted. “If he can tell the difference- There won’t be any tricking him with potions.”

Under other circumstances it would have been a testament to the youkai’s abilities. But the implication wasn’t lost on her. If he couldn’t drug the ookami, he’d force him instead.

* * *

“He’s still not cooperating,” Kohaku told her, staring pensively at his arm. It was still bound, almost useless for the moment. “He’s not eating either.”

“Really?” 

“I thought maybe Naraku was trying to starve him, but its not that. He won’t touch anything.” Kohaku made a quiet sound, poking along the line of the bandages.

If it were so easy, plenty of youkai would have starved themselves before the ookami had ever come to the fortress. Kagome kept her thoughts to herself, staring at the bowl of food on the table. Appetite gone, she excused herself.

* * *

She noticed the lines of the ookami beginning to sharpen, his lost mass apparent now that she stopped and really looked at him. He was starving, the food that had been brought to him still scattered across the floor of the tunnel.

“You need to eat,” She told him. “Please.”

The ookami turned away from her.

* * *

She followed Kanna into the main hall, saw Naraku sitting on his dais, not even moving to acknowledge that she was there as he stared at the huddled form in front of him. A distant sort of contempt tinged his features, as if he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to hate the youkai. Something small, insignificant, like an insect he’d found on his robes. Kagome shuddered, knew the feeling of being subject to that gaze only too well. 

“Good, you’re here,” he said, not looking at her but remaining focused on the ookami. “He’s being uncooperative.”

It was all that needed to be said anymore. She’d been a part of the same scene too many times to mistake his meaning. Despite that, she looked from him to the ookami once, twice. Saw Naraku’s impatience snap and flare, already growing out of control. The ookami must have upset him, or been pushing him. 

Darting forward, she stopped short of the chained youkai, experience teaching her long ago how close was too close, how far was safe enough.

“Kouga,” Naraku said. “Kagome is going to show you her power. Not wards, but her real talent.”

Kouga. She’d never heard his name before. His gaze moved up, over her.

She didn’t touch him, let her hands hover over his. She could see the toll his hunger had taken, malnutrition thinning his fingers, sharpening his face. Fangs pressed against chapped lips and dull eyes stared back at her. Biting back another apology he wouldn’t accept, she let the power flow through her, warm as her blood and through her hands. 

Kouga snarled even as she burned him, even as tears and light burned her eyes, washed the room and blinded.

“That’s enough,” Naraku hummed, and she pulled back and away, grateful to have it done. “Feeling a little out of sorts, Kouga?”

Kouga groaned. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Kagome, again,” Naraku commanded.

Despite his hunger, Kouga only seemed to grow more determined to resist with each time she was instructed to hurt him. A deranged grin blossomed even as blood began leaking from his mouth.

She prayed it was just the product of a bitten tongue or cheek and not something more vital. 

“You’re so spirited,” Naraku’s voice crooned, amused. “Kagome, leave.”

Fleeing for the door, she chanced one last look back at the figure chained to the floor, saw him glaring hatefully at the dais.

* * *

She brought food with her, the same meal she prepared for herself and Jinenji every night. Ignoring the curious stares of the other prisoners, she followed the path down to the lower cells and carefully slipped the bowls through the bars.

Kouga predictably ignored it. 

“Please eat,” She tried. “You'll need your strength.”

“So you can torture me again?” He said, turning to glare at her.

Her heart slammed against her ribcage, arrhythmic and sharp.

“Because my sister wouldn't want this,” She told him, meeting his gaze.

He glanced over at her, then down at the food. 

Not trusting herself, or even him, she got to her feet and left the cell behind. None of the telltale crashes could be heard before she was too far away. 

* * *

The next morning, well before any of the others woke, she traveled down to the cells, food in hand, and traded the bowls out. 

Cautiously, she pushed the bowl through the bars and darted back, unsure if his good will had extended to the morning. He remained still, pale, inscrutable gaze following her. Carefully, she renewed the wards and backed away, as if he would somehow break through her wards and attack her.

It felt suspiciously like something of the sort, as if she couldn’t turn her back, anxiety and terror churning inside of her, a storm she couldn’t understand. 

Once completed, she fled without saying a word, his scrutiny too much to bear.

Her hands shook as she renewed the wards on the rest of the cells.

* * *

Several days later, she pushed the bowl through the bars and he took it up, eating the strips of meat without bothering to wait for her to leave. It was the third day he’d done that, and she hoped it signaled something, some change in his regard. 

“Naraku is a hanyou.”

“Shit,” Kouga muttered, dropping the meat into the bowl, as if no longer interested. “A fucking half breed.”

“All hanyou have moments where they're completely human. Sometimes hours, or-during the day or night, or one night in a year. It's different for all of them, but they all,” She took a deep breath. “They all experience times where their youki ebbs into nothing.”

That it would be their one chance against Naraku went without saying. 

“Do you know when it is?” Kouga asked quietly.

“Not yet.”

* * *

When Kanna stood at the entrance to her room, she followed without question, knowing Naraku was waiting. Years of experience had taught her to school her expression, even still and slow her heartbeat, to give him no indication of her feelings. Despite that, she felt a stab of fear when she stepped into the main hall and saw Kouga chained to the floor, in the same spot as before. 

“Come here,” Naraku commanded. She felt Kanna leave, heard the door close and walked to where Naraku stood, tall over Kouga’s prone form. Determined to give nothing away, she stared at the far wall, focusing on a single joint of wooden panels.

“I think the wolf's grown fond of you,” Naraku crooned in her ear. Fear stabbed in her belly as a hand slid around her throat and up in a mockery of a caress. Tears pricked her eyes when his mouth rested against her cheek, fingertips digging into her jaw. “It’s what happens when you feed a stray.” 

Kouga's chains shifted. She tried to warn him, begged him to stay still with her eyes.

“Tell me where it is,” Naraku commanded. 

“No,” Kouga snarled without hesitation.

“Kagome.” He pushed her forward, almost toppling her completely before she caught herself on her palms. Glancing up at Kouga, she realized she was well within the inner boundary, close enough for Kouga to cause harm, if he chose. But his gaze remained fastened on the hanyou behind her.

Biting back an apology, she reached out her hands.

“No,” Naraku intoned when she hovered over Kouga’s wrists. “His head.”

“He could be permanently damaged,” She reminded the hanyou, voice thick. “Including his mind.”

“He'll heal. Or he won't,” Naraku dismissed.

Her eyes burned when she let her hands rest close to his jaw, almost touching. He leaned in, and she almost pulled away until his hands grabbed her arms and pulled her in. His mouth rested on her cheek. It felt bizarrely intimate. For a moment she froze, not understanding why- Until she realized no one but Naraku had touched her in years. She had rarely touched, even to use her powers on someone. She didn’t need to touch, and no one else touched her.

Naraku began to laugh, as if pleased by the idea of a new spectacle, or an added dimension to the amusement he'd crafted for himself.

“If it damages my mind, kill me,” Kouga whispered in her ear, so quiet she could barely hear it.

“Don't-”

“You'd be doing me a favor. Don't let him absorb me,” He whispered. “Make me ash.”

Kagome nodded, hands trembling on his face, palms cupping the square of his jaw, fingertips against his temples, cutting into his hair.

“So sweet, the pair of you,” Naraku drawled. “No more dawdling, Kagome.”

The power rose up and moved through her, slowly at first as she tried to reign it in and control it.

“Kagome, if you don't do it, I'll just absorb him.”

Kouga's face was twisted into a snarl, teeth bared and eyes open. Energy burned, sparked through her and into him. When Kouga slumped to the ground, chains slackening, she fell back, felt gorge rising in her throat.

Naraku made a disappointed sound, sighing. “He didn’t last as long as I’d hoped.”

“Is he-”

“Oh he’s not dead. I just thought he’d be able to hold out for awhile longer,” Naraku told her, still not bothering to look in her direction. 

Despite his supposed assurances, she darted forward, checked Kouga’s neck for the telltale fluttering of a heartbeat. It thrummed beneath her fingertips. Alive. SKin too hot, heart fluttering uncertainly but alive.

“Leave, Kagome,” Naraku commanded. 

Despite herself, she fled, leaving the room and Kouga’s form behind.

The more space she put between them, the heavier she grew, wondering if surviving was such a blessing, if she’d somehow damaged his mind, if-

If Naraku would make a liar of her, and absorb him once she was gone. 

* * *

“It's me,” She murmured softly. 

“I smelled you,” Kouga told her. “And heard you. I'm just blind, not crippled.”

“Jinenji helped me make a potion for your eyes, to try and reverse the damage.”

“Handy,” He huffed.

“I need you to lay down, with your head next to the bars.”

Kouga moved closer and laid down, hands under his head.

She surveyed the damage. There was nothing physically apparent, but his eyes didn't look into her eyes, the way he'd always done. “I'm sorry,” She whimpered, trying to breathe.

“Stop saying that.”

She began to nod and then stopped herself, knowing he wouldn't see. Instead she steeled herself, taking a deep breath. “Jinenji said the tincture needs to be applied twice a day for a season. If-”

“If?”

“If it hasn't returned by then, it probably won't.”

She carefully positioned the spoon over his eye, letting drops slide out, watching him blink against it. Despite the urge to steady his head, or her hands, she made no move to touch him. She had to use more of the drops, but Jinenji had assured her he could continue making it. 

“Who is Jinenji?”

“A hanyou, taught the healing arts by his parents before they died. He's been training me as well.”

“Why does Naraku want a healer?”

“Knowing cures means knowing poisons too. I'm doing the other eye now,” She warned.

Kouga blinked several times when she began dropping the tincture into his other eye, the drops sliding down the sides of his face.

“Why doesn't he just absorb him?”

“He says Jinenji is too unsightly, but,” She paused, looking down at him. “I think he's afraid of having someone so kind inside of him. Like it might infect him, somehow.”

“You think it works that way?”

“He's absorbed youkai of many visages,” She reasoned. And had killed a great deal of other youkai off. “Sometimes his creations are repugnant to him, as if he can't stand that they were once a part of him. I think- Maybe he tries to cast parts of himself out.”

“How do you figure?”

“There was a completely human one, once. He-” She shuddered, remembering Muso. It had only been by Naraku’s dubious graces that she’d escaped Muso’s attentions, though only barely. “Naraku seemed unstable. I think that's why he absorbed him again. His body couldn't take not having humanity in it.” That was the best she and Miroku had ever managed to guess, at least. There was no other reason Naraku would have taken his errant child, a complete human, back into himself.

“I’m surprised he didn’t do it with the pack,” Kouga finally said. “If it made him stronger.”

It was a good question, another one she and Miroku had not been able to puzzle through. Kohaku, despite being from a slayer village, couldn’t remember enough of what he’d learned to answer any questions they had. 

“Was it like a village?” She asked quietly.

“What?”

“Your pack.”

“No,” He said, his smile telling her how absurd the comparison was. “Not like any village I’ve ever seen. We move too much, we- We’re close. Dozens of us. Everyone knows everything. We don’t bother with separate homes.”

She tried to imagine a group of people like him, all living together, on the move. It was completely beyond anything she could comprehend, penned in as she had been for years. “I’m sorry for the loss.”

“Kagura killed them all,” Kouga said, smile vanishing. “They trusted me to lead them. I failed.”

Anguish. There was nothing she could say to that, so she remained silent.

* * *

She took care not to touch Kouga, carefully putting the medicine in his eyes. Ever since he’d admitted his failure to his people, she felt curiously fragile around him, as if she had begun to feel that failure as one of her own.

“You said Naraku's killed people you love, just not the one you love the most,” He reminded her once she’d finished. 

“Even after my mentor recognized our power, we weren't forced to leave our family behind. At first we thought we were lucky. It helped our parents, and my little brother. They didn't have to worry about feeding or clothing us, and it was an honor for them.”

“He killed them.”

“Naraku killed everyone in the village, except my sister and I.”

“Maybe you were lucky,” Kouga said. “He didn't kill you.”

She was grateful he couldn't see her, the words digging in like a taunt even though they'd been meant as anything but. Watching her village slaughtered, her family ripped apart, running for her life only to be snatched up by one of Naraku's golems- Years had passed, but the memories were as vivid as they'd always been.

The interim had been just as awful, dozens of lives passing through the fortress. She didn't feel lucky, not even to be alive.

“Miroku says there is a reason to all things,” She finally said. 

“You sound like you don't believe it.”

“I don't.”

* * *

Kouga laid himself down without prompting when she sat across from him, already preparing the potion to pour into his eyes.

“Jinenji wants to know how you're progressing.”

“I see shapes,” Kouga told her quietly. “And movement. Blurs and shadows, mostly. Some light.”

“Good,” she breathed. “That's a good sign.”

“Any progress on your end?”

“Almost.”

“It feels like it’s been years,” Kouga rebuked.

She envied him that he’d managed to keep his sense of time, even in unchanging world beneath the cells. She’d learned to pass the time with her courses. Curiously, what she suspected was near to her own courses. On moonless nights her cycle began, and Naraku kept to himself, or vanished altogether. For a time she’d wondered if he’d considered her dirty, but she’d found he retreated from all of them, even Jineji. 

“If I’m right, not much longer,” She promised.

Kouga’s eyes stared up at her, unseeing. Despite that, she could see his resolve.

* * *

When she stepped into the main hall, shew felt a wash of relief to see the chains empty, Kouga absent. Naraku was holding something small and wriggling, and for a moment she didn’t even know what she was looking at until it shifted and transformed again, the writhing form becoming a small, childlike creature with a fluffy tail.

“Kagome,” Naraku began, lips curled in revulsion as he stared at the struggling youkai.

“No,” She whispered, unable to pull her gaze from the kitsune.

“What was that?” Naraku asked lightly, smiling at her.

“I won't hurt him.”

“Then I'll just absorb him.”

She stared at the terrified kitsune. “Please don't make me do this. He's just a baby.”

“Your kind do breed early, don't they?” Naraku asked. “Perhaps even miko have maternal instincts.” His fingers grazed her face, far more threatening than any blow. “Continue to obey, and the kitsune is yours to care for. Don't, and I'll devour him while you watch.”

She felt her eyes burning, but she nodded steadily. He dropped the kitsune on the floor and turned away, as if he’d already forgotten about them both. 

“Go with her, or I'll devour you now,” Naraku said, dismissing them.

She gestured for the kitsune to follow, when he didn’t grabbed one of his hands and practically dragged him from the room, claws digging into her palm until they were out and several hallways away, closer to Jineji’s rooms than Naraku’s hall.

Only once they were in her room did she release her breath, heart stumbling and tripping.

She’d defied Naraku, an open defiance. There was no doubt she would pay for it somehow, and soon. 

“What is your name?”

The kitsune stared distrustfully. 

“My name is Kagome,” She murmured. “Don't be afraid.”

“Don't bother,” The kitsune spat, a string of accusations pouring from his mouth as he kept his back pressed against the wall behind him. She turned away from the kitsune, went to the door that opened onto a veranda she’d never been able to step onto. Sliding it back she attempted to discern the sky. The dense canopy prevented all the light of the moon from reaching them. If she was right-

If she wasn't Naraku would probably devour them all. But if she was right. That thought took hold of her, leaving no room for doubt.

“There is an ookami, named Kouga,” She murmured softly, interrupting the deluge of words. “When you meet him, you must do as he says.”

“I'm not listening to anyone that works for that monster or you!”

“He resides in the cells,” She said firmly, still staring at the sky.

The kitsune scampered around in front of her, gaze shrewd. “Shippou.”

“I've heard kitsune are very clever, and have good memories,” She told him.

“Yeah.”

“Would you like to walk with me?”

* * *

“I have to go,” Kagome told him firmly. “Jinenji is very kind. He won't harm you, and Naraku never comes here.” Shippou stared up at her with a cunning that felt out of place on such a young face. He still didn’t trust her, not that she could blame him. But she was sure he would listen. 

“Thank you,” She said, accepting the medicine from Jinenji.

“Take a lantern with you, to see how his eyes respond,” Jienji told her. 

She bowed, gathering the items from the table and giving Shippou one last glance and preparing herself for the cells, schooling her expression to one of indifference before passing the cells with youkai in them.

“You’re hurt,” Kouga observed as she sat everything down. 

Shippou’s claws had ruptured the skin of her palm, the tiny wounds reopening with her movements.

“It’s nothing.”

Kouga laid down and she carefully poured medicine into his eyes. Before she could finish the first eye, his hand shot out, faster than she could see, grabbing her wrist. Startled, she pulled her hand more out of surprise than anything else, but Kouga held fast. Burning, his wamrth compared to the chill of the cells branded, his hand dwarfed her wrist, made her feel small. It was the first contact they’d had since she’d blinded him.

A delicate sniff and his gaze, unseeing as it was, moved back up to her. “Blood.”

“Not enough to matter,” She told him.

Clawed fingers slowly released her hand.

Her hand trembled as she poured the medicine into his other eye, the drops splashing messily across his face. 

“Jinenji wants to see how your eyes respond to light,” She told him, voice quiet. “It will be brighter.”

Kouga sat up, the medicine tracking down his cheeks like tears. Pushing that uncomfortable thought aside, she lit the small lantern and brought it closer to the bars, focusing on the pale reflection of his eyes.

“Light,” He said, brows furrowing. “Shapes.”

A heavy sound built in her stomach and she forced it to stay down, worried he would understand it. “Okay.”

* * *

“I’ll do the wards on my own this evening.”

“Does Naraku require my presence?”

“No,” She said, shaking her head. “He never does on nights like this.”

“You seem troubled.”

“It's going to be a long night,” She murmured, taking care to keep her voice low. “I think it will be difficult to see, without the moon. You should be careful.”

“Kagome,” Miroku began as comprehension dawned. She shook her head and mustered a wan smile. 

“For Kohaku,” She added, turning her hand to show the tiny paper packet between her fingers. She'd made the powders away from Jinenji's eyes, even though he'd been the one to first show her how to make the sedative.

“He won't-”

“If my little brother was still alive, I think this is what I'd want for him,” She murmured.

Miroku grabbed her hand, the little bundle held fast between their palms. It was the first time he'd ever touched her, and the cloth and beads covering his hand rasped, his hands clutching hers so tightly the beads dug into her skin, ground into the fragile bones beneath.

“I should-”

“You shouldn't,” She warned lightly, releasing his hands and the herbs. The packet disappeared into the folds of cloth winding around his arm. “You won't have long. But long enough, I think.”

They both knew she wasn't just talking about the night itself. The void in his hand would consume him someday. But better out there, instead of locked in the fortress, praying futilely for the day Naraku would free him of the curse. And if he had a son- It would be a terrible burden, but it was one that would occur regardless of Miroku's freedom or not. They both knew, with a terrible certainty, that Naraku would never free Miroku, would never free any of them.

It had always been a waiting game, for the day Naraku could devour them or deemed them useless. 

If he'd been more noble, he would have tried to make her leave with him, and if she were more noble, she'd tell him something, anything to give him hope. But neither of them were noble, the truth of their existences, of their actions, overshadowing any endeavor words could hope to make.

Stepping back, she gave him one last thin, tired smile and fled.

* * *

Kouga was leaning against the bars of his cell when she arrived.

“How are your eyes?” She murmured.

“Shapes, outlines, colors. Blurs,” He added ruefully.

She began ticking off how the potion was made.

“You especially bored today?”

“All information is worth having.”

Kouga shifted against the bars, eyes staring at her, but not squinting as he had been. It was eerily focused for being so vacant.

“There is a kitsune, a child. He only has a single tail. He-” She stopped, the words getting caught in her throat. She wasn’t even sure she could explain. 

“You've been crying a lot.”

“No.”

“Liar. I can smell the tears. Did he die?”

“No,” She whispered, shaking her head. “And he can't.”

“Naraku'll use him,” Kouga warned.

“Naraku's already using him.” She said nothing for several minutes, not sure if Kouga would speak, and not sure if she had anything she could say. “I wonder if caring is always like this.”

“Like what?”

“Feeling so powerless. It can't be, can it? Why would anyone do it?”

“Because when you stop, you become a real monster, like Naraku.”

Monster. Monstrous. Had she crossed the line already, even though she cared about the others? Or was she still being selfish and self centered, moving to protect those she loved at the cost of others? It seemed that there was no cause to justify her actions for the past years, no amount of words that could absolve her.

“It can make you powerful too,” He told her, voice almost too quiet to hear. “More powerful than anyone like him.”

She stared at him, memorizing the lines of his face. He looked sincere, as if he believed every word. She didn't ask him about his pack, if he had anything to make him powerful now, if they would somehow carry him out when he couldn't even see. Instead she memorized him, tried to find some kernel of truth in his words, as if she could take his faith and make it her own.

“When you feel it, don't do anything,” She finally whispered. “Stay here until I come. I'll guide you.”

“Feel what?”

“You'll know. Everyone will.”

* * *

She felt antsy all day, pretending illness, even lying to Jinenji when he pressed, saying the pain of her courses had fatigued her. She kept Shippou with her, tossed fitfully on her pallet even as she got him to nap. Briefly she reconsidered the entire plan. Surely there had to be some other way-

Except someone would probably die, would most likely die before another opportunity presented itself. SO many already had, and she wasn’t sure what it meant, what it said about her that she refused to let it be Kouga or Shippou.

When true night fell, she checked what sliver of sky she could see, saw the absolute darkness that came with a moonless night and, barring a prayer to any deity she’d long ago forgotten the name of, prayed to her family. 

Then she reached out, casting her senses along the tunnels of the fortress, deeper into the mountain, and quietly and efficiently began to snuff out the wards that held the youkai captive.

“Kagome?” Shippou asked muzzily, starting awake when a siren cry rose up from below, echoing through her bones. They’d discovered their freedom. Wooden bars and cages wouldn’t hold a human, much less a youkai or hanyou.

“We have to be fast now,” She told him, surprised it had already begun, that the start had been so abrupt even though she had initiated it. She got to her feet, opened the door and for a moment thought maybe she’d imagined it. Right until she saw the first youkai rushing down a hallway, determined to get outside.

Suddenly youkai and hanyou were trampling, screaming furiously, running through the passageways, the fortress. 

“We have to get to the cells below,” She muttered, frustrated that no path opened itself. Moving against the crowd would be impossible. In the cells that had seemed to be only a handful, but the stampede felt like a crowd trying to filter through the bottleneck of the fortress hallways.

“I can hide us,” Shippou swore. 

“Please,” She agreed, waiting until he gave her an affirmative and then she was bolting, pushing against the sea of youkai Naraku had kept prisoner. There were more than she could ever remember, all of them pushing back at her, determined to escape.

She broke through the line and from there it was easy to navigate, get down to the cells that had been abandoned. There was an obvious path of destruction, even some blood smeared on the floor. But the deeper she went the more quiet it became until she saw Kouga staring through the wooden bars of his cell.

“What's going on?” Kouga demanded as she opened the door.

“We have to go, now,” She told him, pulling him along. “Before they realize what’s happened.”

Shippou held fast to her, his head against her thundering heart. Kouga held fast to her hand, claws pricking flesh as she navigated the tunnels and back into the fortress proper. There were the sounds of screaming, fury rising in the halls, echoing so that she wasn’t sure where they were coming from. 

Either she’d been wrong, and Naraku had come back, or his children were doing his dirty work.

“Take him,” She commanded, shoving Shippou into Kouga's arms. “Go.”

“You-”

“He knows every way out,” She said, shoving him down a hallway. “Go, before they come. Go!”

“Kagome,” Shippou cried out, his voice piercing the din.

“Hide the both of you until you’ve put distance behind you. Do what Kouga says,” She told him. “He'll keep you safe.” Switching her gaze to Kouga, she saw him readying an argument. “I can slow them down, but you need to hurry,” She ordered impatiently.

“He'll know-”

“He already knows. Get out of here.”

“They'll kill you.”

“Then find kikyou,” Kagome told him literally shoving him. “And free her before he kills her too. Go.”

The pair blinked out of sight. Shippou’s voice called out to her again, growing more faint even as she felt the swells of youki in the building. A crashing din, arrhythmic and unforgiving that broke over her skin again and again, a psychical assault.

She felt Kanna and Kagura both, their youki threatening to leave her behind.

“Kagura!” She bellowed, summoning her power, demanding attention. She’d only ever hurt other people with the power, almost always chained, imprisoned. She’d never fought anyone, never aimed it at someone that could fight back. She bellowed Kagura and Kanna’s names again, stomach churning.

Kagura and Kanna both appeared scant moments later, their gazes focused on her. 

“Foolish,” Kagura hummed.

“Coward” She bit out.

Kagura's winds cut into her, felt like knives rending flesh and bearing down on her, pushing her into the ground.

* * *

She could hear Kagura giving report, that everyone, from the strongest youkai to the lowliest hanyou had escaped, their guards gone. Aside from her, the fortress was empty of captives. 

Unable to muster a smile, she listened, watched the feet on the floor. Even looking up to see their expressions was more than she could bear. When Kagura left, summarily dismissed, she closed her eyes again, exhausted now that her goals had been achieved.

Every part of her ached, a layer of insistent pain that throbbed and pulsed from her very bones. A foot turned her onto her back, forced her to look up at the figure in the white pelt. 

“What were you thinking? Naraku asked softly, his tone in contrast to the cold fury in his eyes.

“That you were human last night,” She groaned.

“Clever,” Naraku hissed, eyes narrowing hatefully. “I'll have to see to you personally.”

Fingers dug into her shoulder, bruising, rending flesh before a panel in the floor opened and she was falling into a darkness more absolute than the cells. There was nothing but the dark and quiet, even light disappearing when Naraku closed the panel, disappearing from view.

* * *

Small eternities passed between the golems slipping in through the shadows. Their bodies brushed over her, unnerving in their silence, unexpected and terrifying even as she tried to brace herself for them. They always left scant bits of rice and water for her to eat. Knowing Naraku’s tricks she tried to hold out. But even drugged water was better than no water at all.

* * *

She still ached, still hurt everywhere when a shaft of light opened up over her. Naraku descended easily, a bundle of red and white in his arms that he dropped to the floor.

Kagome stared at the body in horror.

“Kikyou,” She choked out, the name bitter and sharp in her mouth. Even though it had been years, she recognized the lines of her sister’s face, a kinder reflection, more beautifully carved than she’d ever been. 

“You only had to obey,” Naraku reminded her coolly. “I'll find the others and destroy them as well.”

He easily ascended the short distance, leaving her alone with the cold body before the light disappeared and she was left in the dark, cradling her sister’s form. The darkness ate at her sobs, felt like it was swallowing the sounds.

* * *

Naraku didn’t return, and without him, there was no light.

The body began to putrefy slowly, filling the room with the stench. Stomach roiling, she carefully dragged the corpse across the darkness. With no forms or lights she couldn’t be sure where the darkness even ended, but she let it rest and walked away, unsure of direction except away.

When she woke, the body was next to her again, the scent of decay filling her mouth.

* * *

He didn’t even bother to come down into the pit this time, instead opening the door and tossing something down. The light burned and blistered her vision.

“Shippou,” She whimpered, staring at the small, broken body, recognizable only by the shock of red hair and the bloodied tail.

Then darkness where she could only run her fingers through hair clumped and clotted with congealed blood. 

The pit smelled of nothing but rot and refuse.

* * *

She’d learned to fear the light, what it meant when the panel above lifted away and light burned down into the pit. By now the smell was rancid, a miasma that filled every breath.

Naraku descended, a figure held by the throat. Limp arms and head lolling, she knew who it was without having to move the hair covering the face.

“He fought,” Naraku chuckled. Kagome didn't make a sound, staring at Kouga's battered form as it fell to the ground in a careless, broken heap.

Then darkness swallowed her whole, the odor of putrefaction suffocating her.

She moved over to the corpse, feeling it out in the darkness, hands smoothing over stone and dirt until she found the still warm body. Long hair, a square face. Her fingers moved over the neck, could find no telltale fluttering. After having survived so much, she’d hoped, however futilely, that he’d held onto one last breath. But the stillness in his chest, the quiet only confirmed the paralyzing guilt that bred in the darkness.

Their deaths were the cost of her own cowardice.

Apologies fell over her lips into the dark, the bodies of the people she’d tried to save quiet, accusing. 

* * *

She’d forgotten that there was a door to her prison when the panel moved again, a square of wavering light in a world of darkness, demanding her attention. Kagome whimpered, curling into herself, away from the light, from the dark outline that cut it in half. It came closer, saying her name again, cursing vividly. Loud and bright, too big for even the darkness to swallow down.

“Hey,” A familiar voice said, pulling at her. “Come on-”

Sharp lines in her vision faded, and she squinted up at the shadow hovering over her, barely able to lift her head.

Kouga stared down at her, his face cast in shadows. She reached out, felt flesh and the bone supporting it, the texture of hair-

“You're not real,” She whispered.

Rough, callused hands held hers, gripped them tight. “We have to go.”

Kagome shook her head, trying to pull her hands free. It was a trick, some game Naraku wanted to play now that she’d broken. Kouga was dead. “Not real.”

“This is what he wanted,” Kouga told her, the blades glittering, emanating their own light in the darkness. For the first time she realized they were emanating light, brighter, more alive than anything coming from the door above. “He wouldn't know what to show you.”

She reached out, grabbed the light, felt hot, wet heat slip down her hand, following by blooming, cold pain.

“Don't-” He warned, too late. She stared at her hand, the pain throbbing, burning and warm.

“It hurts,” She murmured in awe.

Kouga muttered an oath. The blade disappeared and she was being gathered up in his arms, held too tightly to his chest, flesh bruising as he darted for the door, for the light shining down into the cellar. She heard the sounds of fighting, shouting-

It all felt distant, like she was hearing it brought in from the wind.

“Get her out of here!”

“But-”

“Take her to the healer. Now!”

The light was so bright, blindingly white and warm and it hurt, piercing her eyes like needles. Heart hammering, tripping in her chest, she closed her eyes against the pain, couldn’t escape the brightness even behind her lids.

* * *

She woke to the familiar sounds, familiar scents. Herbs and a pestle and mortar. Jinenji’s quiet, rumbling hum.

“It's good you're awake,” Jinenji said quietly. She looked around, unable to make sense of her surroundings. A hut filled with herbs, lit by the light of a single window. A hut she was sure she’d never seen before, as different from Naraku’s fortress as it could be.

“What happened?” She managed, throat dry and tight, strangling the words as they came out. Jinenji knelt by her, offering water. She took it from his large hands, realized she could barely hold it, grip weak and arms shaking from the strain. Taking care, she managed a few sips before she had to set the cup down, breathless.

“You had a fever,” Jinenji began. “From the conditions they described, I'm surprised it wasn't worse.”

“How long?”

“We rescued you the second new moon after our escape. It’s waning again, almost gone.”

That long. Everything- It all felt like a dream. It still felt like she was dreaming. 

She watched, almost detached as Jinenji tended to her, his touch impersonal as he checked her skin, delicately examining different bandages. Sores, she imagined. From sleeping on dirt and rock, in worse. Infection from those, fever. Jinenji’s teachings supplied enough, more than that she didn’t want to know.

“Thank you, for what you sacrificed,” Jinenji told her, finally meeting her gaze evenly. “Your condition- What you endured could not have been easy, for anyone.”

“I’m glad you made it out safely,” She managed, forcing what she hoped was a convincing smile. 

She watched him struggle, begin speaking and stop again, another false start before a small sigh and a kind look she couldn’t interpret as anything but pity. “You have guests waiting.” 

“Thank you.”

She knew the face, knew the expression better than she’d even known her own. 

“Kagome,” The woman said, dark gaze bright on her face, shadows beneath her eyes.

“Kikyou?”

Her sister was warm and stronger than she’d ever imagined, arms tight around her form, keeping her close. She smelled like sun warmed stone, nothing at all like the caves beneath the fortress. Fire and metal clung to that, creating a nuance that she inhaled, banishing the mephetis that had haunted her in the dark.

“Kagome?” A new voice asked,quiet. Reluctantly, she pulled back from her sister’s arms to see Shippou creeping closer to her pallet.

“Shippou,” She asked, staring at the small kitsune. Her hand cupped the kit's face, just long enough to feel real, to see scars on her hand before she was snatching it back, away as if burned. Then the bewildered kit stared at her as she burst into tears. 

They let her cry like that, Kikyou holding her hands tightly until the tears stopped and she was left with breathless hiccups and water from a wooden cup, cold and sharp in her throat.

Eventually Miroku came into the hut, gaze moving over her, surveying the bandages and whatever else, she didn’t know, didn’t want to know what he saw. She noticed the rosary in his hand had disappeared, his hand opening, unblemished. He sat a tray down next to her, the smell of food wafting up, making her stomach turn in hunger or nausea, too twisted in knots to tell which. 

“How?” She finally managed, not denying Shippou when he crawled onto her pallet, head resting against her stomach.

“Inu Yasha and Sango freed me years ago,” Kikyou murmured. “Naraku told me you were dead. He showed me a body,” Kikyou told her, grip tightening until her hands ached. 

“How did you find me?”

“I found her,” Shippou said, finally speaking up. “And then I helped Kouga find his pack.”

Kikyou nodded gravely, no impression of humoring Shippou in evidence. “We didn’t know if we were going to save you or- Or avenge you,” Kikyou admitted.

“Naraku showed me your body,” Kagome whimpered. “You and Shippou and-” She stopped, swallowing convulsively. “He killed all of you.”

“Why didn't you go with the others?” Kikyou demanded quietly, as if hurt. 

She didn’t know how to explain in those moments, she’d understood having to pay for the things she’d done, but also- She’d needed to make sure they escaped more than she’d needed to survive. “I had to stop the guards from following them. I- I hurt them. The least I could do was give them a head start.”

“No-”

“If it had been you, would you have hurt them to keep me safe?” Kagome demanded.

“It's never that simple.”

“You were surviving,” A new, rough voice said as a figure entered the hut. “If anyone blames you for trying to take care of your family, you send them my way.”

“Inu Yasha,” Kikyou began, a warning.

“No. I'd kill for family that cared that much about me. You were how old when he took you?”

“Twelve summers,” Kikyou answered for her.

“You were a kid. No one can blame you. You were as much his prisoner as the others. Just because he didn't keep you in a cell doesn't mean anything. Who said otherwise?”

Kagome looked down at her lap.

“Kouga did,” Miroku supplied.

“That sonofabitch,” Inu Yasha snarled.

“He'd just lost his pack,” Kagome defended quickly. “And been thrown in a cage.”

“Funny, considering his pack helped us fight Naraku.”

“They were alive?” Kagome asked, looking from Inu Yasha to her sister.

“At least a dozen,” Kikyou confirmed.

She whimpered, tears burning her eyes.

“Hey, what-” Inu Yasha began.

She covered her face. “I need some time, please. I’m tired and I- Just-”

“Alright,” Kikyou murmured. She heard the sound of people leaving the hut, leaving her alone. Even Shippou followed Kikyou out at her sister’s command.

She savored the knowledge. It wasn't the large pack Kouga had described, but it was some. Some was better than none at all. He wasn't alone.

And neither was she. That knowledge felt strange, sat oddly on her. Despite having Jinenji’s company, or Miroku and Kohaku- She’d been alone for years. Even Kouga’s presence hadn’t completely banished that sensation. But she had people, had- She had something.

For a moment she wished he was there, so she could ask what she was supposed to do next. 

* * *

Innumerable days, days that felt too short and like eternities passed as she alternated between eating, sleeping, and listening to her sister, Shippou, Miroku in short bursts before exhaustion settled in. She caught up with Kohaku, met his sister, spoke more with Inu Yasha. More and more people filtered in and out of the hut, mostly for Jinenji’s assistance, but also to gawk at her. Their stares became oppressive, the hut itself small. Even trapped in Naraku’s fortress, the rooms had been large enough to keep from smothering her. The indistinct passing of time, or lack thereof, only made it worse.

“Can I go outside?” She begged one day, desperate to be anywhere but in the hut.

“I think we can manage that,” Kikyou said, helping her to her feet. She’d walked before this, coltlike steps that had required help. She still needed help, her legs uncertain beneath her. She fumbled the door open, trying to balance against her sister and desperate to get out.

Afraid of falling and taking her sister with her she kept her eyes on her feet, one foot laboriously in front of the other until it felt like her muscles were wet sand, lungs unable to drag air in quickly enough. Frustration burned the corners of her eyes, salt stung when she realized she’d barely made it to the other side of Jinenji’s field.

“It’s okay,” Kikyou said, sensing her mood. “Let’s get some rest.”

She didn’t fold gracefully so much as slump down, finally looking up at the blue sky.

“It's so bright,” She murmured, awed by the vastness of it. It was overwhelming, almost frightening. 

“Miroku looks at it often as well,” Kikyou said, as if she understood.

* * *

Day by day she traveled a little farther outside of the hut, sitting and soaking up the sun as she watched the activities of the village. Jineji’s hut was on the outskirts, a field stretching behind it, different plants growing in profusion. Beyond that the forest, a natural border.

Shippou rarely left her side, bringing her stories of the different villagers, or complaining about Inu Yasha, chattering, childlike and filling the air with noise.

One day she finally asked her sister for the truth regarding the hanyou that followed her around.

“Inu Yasha and I are,” Kikyou frowned. “Mated. We never married. We were always on the move, trying to hide from Naraku and find him at the same time. We wanted revenge, for everything he'd done to us. But he always hid himself too well.”

“I'm glad you had him,” She said, wondering how they’d met, how they’d fallen in love when she and Kikyo had been taught to hate all demons, half blooded or not. 

“I'm glad I found you again,” Kikyou answered, leaning into her. “When I thought you were gone, you never felt gone. I thought I was going crazy. And then- Then the others found us and the ookami told me you were alive. I didn't even ask for proof.”

“Kouga wouldn't lie about something like that,” She murmured, leaning back into her sister.

“He was very determined to save you,” Kikyou said carefully, watching her as if looking for something.

“We were prisoners together,” Kagome hedged, unsure of what else to say.

Kikyou’s expression grew worried. “That was a different life. You're different people out here.”

“I know.” It didn't stop her from wondering what Kouga was doing, now that he was free, now that he was with his pack again.

* * *

“Where are we?”

“It was a slayer village. Sango's,” Inu Yasha explained. “She's changed the rules a little. It's our village now, for anyone that wants to live safely. No matter how much or how little youkai blood we have.”

“Good,” Kagome murmured, staring at the villagers, the mix of races. A legacy that was distinctly her sister’s and her mates. She tried to imagine herself within it. Even with the simple tasks they were allowing her, she couldn’t see herself fitting into the rhythm of it all.

* * *

Spring turned to summer.

She began pushing herself, going further and further afield, escaping on her own. The first few times she disappeared Inu Yasha found her, practically dragged her back to the village to quell her sister’s panic. More than once fi=t of tears turned into angry words, hysterics that had Inu Yasha and Jinenji caught between them, trying to reason with them both.

More and more often she left the village behind to go deeper into the surrounding forest. Her sister went with her, and she rediscovered old skills that had been forgotten in Naraku’s fortress. They didn’t speak of before except in generalities. She wasn’t even sure she remembered her family as anything more than dreams.

She wasn’t as good as her sister, but the more she pushed herself, the more proficient she became. Her body began to put on muscle, the pallor of the fortress blooming into sunkissed skin.

More than once she tried to fit herself into the village’s routines, felt herself jarring against it over and over.

* * *

Jinenji offered companionable silence, a rare comfort for both of them.

More and more she knew something had to change, had to give before she did. She’d broken over and over already, the peices unable to fit into whatever life could have been hers. 

“It's not my father's field,” Jinenji said, breaking the quiet. “But no one's afraid of me.”

“Thank you, for everything you’ve done.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“I know that's why you did it,” She murmured. “But you deserve to be thanked, and you deserve a place where you're happy.”

Jinenji's massive hand moved towards her face, one finger pressing against her cheek and smoothing over her hair. “You're not happy here.”

Her eyes burned, understanding in a way she hadn't before and hating herself for taking so long. “No,” She admitted softly.

“I wish I could give you peace.”

“Even your gentle heart would suffer beneath the burden. I'm sorry.”

“I hope you find solace, wherever you go.”

He meant it, which made it that much harder to bear. But the truth persisted. She was unhappy in the village, and staying was only hurting her. 

* * *

She watched her sister using a careful hand to sharpen an arrows edge against a stone.

“I know you've moved around so much a home is important to you,” She bega, unsure of how to continue. How did someone tell their loved ones they couldn’t stay, that they couldn’t imagine a life in their world?

“But you're restless here,” Kikyou finished in a wooden voice, not meeting her gaze as she sat the arrowhead down.

“I'm sorry-”

“No, no I understand. He had you for years, and since you were freed you've only seen the village.” Kikyou sighed heavily, her expression haunted. “You need your freedom. After everything- You deserve that.”

She doubted any such thing, but the longer she stayed the more she felt like an impostor, an intruder on other people’s lives. Whatever Miroku and Kohaku had found, or whatever innate quality they had, she had not or did not. Naraku’s fortress had altered her too completely to settle into village life.

“You're leaving?” A new voice asked. Kagome started, looking around for Shippou. He slipped in from outside, where he'd doubtless been eavesdropping.

“Yes,” She told him.

“Take me with you,” Shippou demanded simply.

“Shippou, it's-”

“You told me to listen to whatever Kouga said, and he told me to stay with you and protect you,” Shippou interrupted, face set in a mask of mulish determination.

“I'm human,” She reminded him. “And a miko.”

“My papa would have liked you,” He told her, as if that was all that mattered.

“Alright. Together then,” She murmurred. Shipou stuck out a small hand, claws open as if they were striking a bargain, expression serious. She took it solmenly, shaking once. 

She announced her intention to leave at dinner that night, surrounded by the people that had, by all rights, become a sort of family.

“That little squirt won't protect you at all,” Inu Yasha grumbled.

“I'll be fine,” Kagome promised.

“Take Kirara,” Sango urged. “Please.”

“I couldn't-”

“Miroku told me what you did for Kohaku. This is the least I can do. And when you want to come back, she knows the way here, no matter where you are.”

Kikyou was quiet, her gaze beseeching.

She relented. “Thank you.”

* * *

The pack was large, with enough supplies to last for weeks. She wondered if it would be enough.

“Be safe,” Kikyou told her.

“Be happy,” Kagome whispered into her twin's hair.

Shippou leaned into her stomach as the firecat launched herself into the air. Excitement, anxiety, even relief swept through her as they left the village behind, the people on the ground growing smaller and smaller.

* * *

“Come here,” Kagome commanded softly. Shippou crawled into her lap. She opened her haori a little and situated him so he was tucked inside, against her stomach as she folded and tucked it. Kirara curled around them.

“I didn't realize it would become so cold so quickly,” She apologized. In retrospect, Naraku's fortress had been impervious to the seasons, bordering on timeless. Or frozen, perhaps. The cold that made her breath steam in the air was a revelation, in it's own way, dazzling but still unpleasant.

“Not s'bad,” Shippou yawned. “You're warm.”  
  
Kirara likewise, was very warm, and Shippou was a spot of warmth against her stomach.

She'd been like this before, with her brother and sister, sharing a single pallet with them and huddling for warmth. Years had dulled the memory of being so cold, but the wind brought it back, along with the memory of falling asleep, Souta tucked between her and Kikyou's bodies.

* * *

They’d run out of supplies more quickly than she’d anticipated, Shippou and Kirara needing more meat than her, which she felt foolish for not considering as they’d eaten through all that her sister had packed.

“I could bring down a stag,” Kagome murmured. Or maybe a few hares, although they’d be harder to catch. “But we'd have to eat all of it. I don't know have the supplies to preserve anything.” And she'd forgotten how. Herbs were one thing, but meat was a completely different matter.

“Kirara would probably eat anything we don't.”

Chagrined, she didn’t immediately speak. She'd only ever seen the firecat eat in her smaller form. “Kirara, would you eat a whole deer?”

The firecat made a rumbling sound roughly equivalent to a purr.

“That answers that, I suppose. Shippou, I need you to stay with Kirara.”

“But-”

“It’s difficult to be quiet, you make me laugh so much,” She said, smiling down at him. “And I don’t want to scare our dinner.”

Shippou conceded, allowing her to leave their small camp behind and venture into the forest. Moving quietly in snow proved more difficult than she’d thought. Despairing of finding anything, even as she followed tracks and signs, she settled down and waited.

Cold seeped into her skin, her body stilling, breathing evening out with every exhale of warmth. The forest itself, never quiet, only seemed to grow in volume, each sound gaining it’s own distinction, sharpening in her ears. The world itself became brighter, the scattered moonlight filtering down through openings in the trees.

The buck looked young, tentatively moving closer to an island of tempting growth. She waited, watching carefully before lifting her bow and exhaling. 

She did a clumsy job of butchering it, but it had been years since she'd butchered anything by herself. Given that, she thought she did fairly well. Kirara’s fire did a good job of warming them and cooking the meat. They all ate well, Shippou preferring his cooked. Kirara ate at the raw carcass. Kagome wondered at herself, that the sight didn’t affect her, Kirara’s appetite natural to her.

They fell asleep huddled in Kirara’s fur, sated and warm.

* * *

They dropped down, the brightness of the moon reflected back up at them too much to bare, disorienting. Kirara landed, paws sinking loudly into the snow. 

“We’ll split up, you two that way,” She said firmly, knowing they needed to find real shelter instead of trying to camp in the open. Even Kirara couldn’t protect them if it began snowing again. “And meet back here. Not too long, and keep an ear out.”

Shippou and Kirara both began their search in the opposite direction and she moved slowly, cautiously towards the mountain face, noting it rising up sharply just beyond the treeline.

She marveled at the world around her, turning slowly so she could take it all in. Snow blanketd everything, only the stream visible, stones jutting up crested in snow like small mountains, ice at the edges of the bank. It was beautiful, beyond anything she'd known to dream of.

“What are you doing here?” A voice barked out, echoing in the cold.

Kagome started, looking around her. “Hello?”

Kouga stepped into view, moving like a prowling creature sizing up prey. “Why are you here?”

Excitement trilled through her, making her giddy. Knowing he was alive and seeing him were two completely different things, and she was having a hard time giving his question the due it deserved.

“Should I not be here?” She asked, confused.

“You should be at the village.”

His censure broke through excitement, effectively dampening it. Feeling her frown she ignored the impulse to hide it. “Why?”

“Because-” Kouga was clearly at a loss. “Because it's safe there,” He reasoned, voice growing hard and expression closing off completely.

“I'm safe now.”

“No, you're not,” He told her, as if she were a small child.

“I have Kirara and Shippou.”

“The brat? He's your protection?”

“I'm not defenseless,” She reminded him sharply.

“Why did you leave?” He demanded.

It wasn’t at all what she’d hoped for, in the rare moments she indulged in the potential for such a reunion. 

“Because I was confined to the same building for nine years,” She snapped, losing patience. “And I'm free now. I wanted to move, so I am.”

“Nine- Nine years?” Kouga stuttered out, incredulous.

“Is this your territory?” She bit out, that odd, foolish feeling swelling up again.

“I- We don't do that,” Kouga said, frowning. “But we've been here for awhile.”

“Then I'll go in the morning. I'm sorry I disturbed you.”

“Boss?” A voice asked. “Oh, you're-Hey, it's the miko,” The ookami said, brightening. “You look a lot better than last time we saw you.”

Kagome faltered at the blunt observation, especially since she had no idea who the ookami was. “I- I'm sorry, I don't really remember.”

“Ginta. I carried you down the mountain.”

She gave a small, respectful bow. “Thank you for aiding in my rescue, Ginta.”

The ookami blushed and bobbed his head. “I'll tell the others it's okay.”

Kouga acknowledged the youkai with a nod, but didn't move, still facing her direction.

“Do you have a camp?”

“No. Kirara and Shippou are looking for someplace dry right now.”

“And they left you alone?” He demanded.

“I'm a miko,” She reminded him. “And I have my bow and knife.”

Kouga made an exasperated, buzzing sound. “You can stay with us for the night,” He finally grumbled. “It's dry, and we have a fire.”

“I don't-”

“You'll freeze otherwise. The kit too.”

Pragmatism won out. “Thank you.” She called out for Shippou and Kirara, knowing they would hear. 

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect you to be here,” Kouga admitted a moment later. 

She was saved from formulating a response when Shippou and Kirara landed. Shippou’s gaze lit on Kouga and he gave a small cheer.

“We’re staying with Kouga’s pack tonight,” She said.

Shippou was already chattering excitedly, clearly more at ease than she was as they made their way up a trail until the trail opened up, abruptly, into a cave opening. Watching transfixed, she realized he’d spent time with the wolves, greeting them with easy familiarity.

“Kit’s smart,” Kouga allowed. “Used a spell his dad taught him to find your sister. And my pack,” He added. 

“They said he had, but never how,” She murmured, smiling as Shippou began berating one of the wolves.

Kirara picked a spot in the cave and transformed into her smaller form. Shippou, exhausted by their travels, bedded down quickly, holding her close to his chest. The rest of the pack was also going to sleep, some already beginning to snore. Remembering Kouga’s description, she took it in, waited patiently for silence to take the cave, only quiet breathing and light snores sounding.

The cave itself wasn’t suffocating, but with Kouga’s proximity the memories became more vivid. Carefully separating herself from Shippou and Kirara, she got up and made her way to the mouth of the cave, the moon and stars greeting her in an open sky.

Contemplating the pathways between stars, the cold itself faded to a memory.

“You've been looking at the sky for the last hour. Some of them think you're doing some sort of magic.”

“I'm not,” She murmured. 

“Then what are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Guests shouldn't lie.”

“The trees always blocked the sky,” Kagome told him quietly. “It- It only feels real if I can see they sky now.”

“I can only see the shape of the moon,” Kouga admitted, staring longingly at the sky. “It's light is like water.”

“I'm sorry.”

Kouga’s vacant gaze moved to her, clearly impatient. “Stop saying that.”

She remained silent, unsure of what she could say.

He finally broke the quiet, still looking up at the sky. “How long have you been wandering?”

“Since the beginning of fall.”

“We're migratory by nature,” Kouga said gruffly. “We find a spot and stay awhile, then move on.”

Kagome nodded, turning to look at him.

“If you want to stay on the move, you're welcome to join us.”

“I don't want to burden anyone.”

“You wouldn't.”

“How would the others feel about me?”

“They like you,” Kouga grumbled. “They think you're brave.”

“Even if I'm a miko?”

“Couldn't hurt to have one around. I hear they can do all sorts of crazy shit,” He joked lightly, shaking his head. 

Kagome smiled, but bit back the urge to laugh. “And Shippou and Kirara? I can't leave them.”

“Fine,” Kouga groaned, a hint of a smirk twitching at his lips. “I'm not carrying the brat again.”

“You say that now,” She warned archly. “Thank you,” She added. “I would like to travel with your pack.”

They stayed out there awhile longer, staring up at the sky. Eventually he got to his feet.

“Get some sleep,” He commanded, ruining the effect with a yawn. “Even a fire breathing miko needs her rest.”

She huffed, shaking her head and following him into the cave.

* * *

The snow coming donw outside was beautiful, but the sky promised heavier blankets later. Determined not to take advantage of the kindness of the pack, she shouldered her quiver and grabbed her bow, walking towards the mouth of the cave. Kouga called her name out, the syllables unnaturally loud in the chill.

“It’s snowing, where do you think you’re going?”

“I need to get food for Kirara and Shippou.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kouga told her, as if it meant nothing.

“I can hunt,” She argued.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to-”

“What do you think I did before Naraku took me?” Kagome demanded, angry at the presumption. “I lived in a village, not a palace. I was a peasant, born to peasants. Being a miko didn't do anything but give me more to learn. Besides, I've been doing for myself and mine well enough.”

Kouga stepped back, hands coming up in front of himself as if to ward her off. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You're just-”

“I was someone before he took me, the same as you were. Just because I was there longer doesn't mean I lost that.”

“I didn't mean that-”

“Then what did you mean?” She demanded sharply.

“Nothing,” Kouga muttered, backing away before spinning on his heel and stalking off.

“You're not like he described at all,” Ginta told her, grinning.

“And how did he describe me?”

“Quiet,” Hakkaku told her, also looking far more amused than the situation warranted. 

“This is better though.”

“Yeah,” Hakkaku added. “It makes more sense.”

Anger vanished abruptly, left only bewilderment in it’s wake. “Sense?”

“You freed everyone.”

Shame rose up, pulling her away from them both. She fled into the snow, grateful to put distance between herself and the cave.

* * *

“You should be asleep.”

“Couldn't,” She said, not moving to look at him.

“Is it the cave?”

Kagome shook her head. “I don't mind caves. It's nothing.”

“It's something.”

“The others treat me like- Like-”

“A fire breathing miko?” Kouga challenged, smirking at her. 

“Like I saved people. But I didn’t, I hurt people.”

“To save your sister.”

“Who had already saved herself,” She argued quietly, hugging her knees.

Kouga was silent, contemplating the moon. “I'd kill to avenge any of my packmates, and I led them into a battle that could have easily killed more of them. So,” He paused for a moment. “I didn't have a right to pass judgment on you for trying to keep your sister safe when I led my people into danger.”

“It doesn't change what I did.”

There was no real arguing the truth. She’d hurt youkai and hanyou. Whatever the ookami thought of her, she wasn’t a savior.

“You're not like him,” Kouga told her. “Don't let anyone say otherwise.”

He left her sitting alone to contemplate his words, as if they were all that needed to be said. 

* * *

Miyuki going into labor wasn’t unexpected. She’d noted the youkai’s advanced pregnancy because that part of her training had never waned. Even in Naraku’s fortress there had been the odd pregnant youkai or human woman, and Jineji, for all his wisdom, had been largely ignorant of the process.

However, the panic and worry she saw on several faces in the cave were unusual. Tension stitched itself through their silence, demanded concern.

“Is everything alright?” She asked quietly.

“Normally our women give birth as wolves,” Kouga said, shaking his head. “It's rare for them to stay like this.”

“Does it means something’s wrong?” 

“I don't know, it's- They don't talk to men about that sort of thing.”

“Do you have anyone that can help her?”

Kouga shook his head. “Anyone that would have was killed.”

Hesitation twisted her stomach, the urge to help jarring against the fear of being rejected. “I've helped in deliveries before. Would- I know I'm a miko-”

“No, it's- I would be grateful,” Kouga exhaled, relief writ clear on his features. 

Anxiety trembled beneath her skin, skittering insistently. “I need fresh water,” She commanded, refusing to let it creep into her voice. “Snow will work too, Kirara and Shippou can melt it. Dry leaves, or dry dirt, anything that can soak up blood. And I think it would be best if we have privacy. Take her into one of the auxiliary tunnels, not far. Out of sight, and maybe range of smell.”

Kouga nodded, already nodding to others, who were going to Miyuki and helping her stand. 

She went through her pack and grabbed her warmest haori, and then grabbed the thin linen robe towards the bottom of the pack. She found Miyuki with the others, dismissed them with a curt nod and began laying things out. 

“Miyuki,” She greeted. “How do you feel?”

“Awful,” Miyuki huffed, face red and sweating.

“Humans and youkai have that much in common,” She hummed. “I’m going to examine you, alright? It’s going to feel uncomfortable.”

After a quick examination she realized the issue.

“The baby hasn't turned,” Kagome told her, looking up between Miyuki's legs to her panicked, reddened face. “It's okay, you can still deliver him safely, but his legs are bent in the wrong direction. That I have to help, or both of you could be hurt. Do you understand?”

Miyuki nodded.

“Can you get on your hands and knees? It'll be easier for you and the baby that way.”

Miyuki nodded slowly. “Of course it's this position,” She muttered as she shifted.

“I- Oh,” Kagome said, flushing hotly. Miyuki laughed, the sound turning into a low groan.

She reached in and shifted the baby's feet as gently as she could. “Alright, that's done,” Kagome told her. “You're both going to be okay,” She promised, hoping it was true.

It didn’t take much longer after that, Miyuki grunting and cursing in turn as she coached her through it. The baby was slippery, coming out far more easily than the process would have anticipated, held carefully in her hands. She cleared the nose and mouth, thumped it's back and for a moment the baby breathed.

Then it let out an ear piercing scream.

Miyuki slumped on her side. Kagome made short work of wiping him down.

“Almost done,” Kagome promised, wrapping him carefully in her haori.

She watched them both, listened to the soft growling sounds Miyuki made as she continued to work, tying off the cord and cutting it and carefully shoving away the soiled leaves and afterbirth. Even when she checked the ookami a final time, everything was well, her body already healing itself.

“He's beautiful,” Kagome told her, breath catching as she stared down at the new mother and the small child held close to her.

“Thank you,” Miyuki told her, grasping her hand. Kagome nodded quietly, got to her feet and walked out of the tunnel, saw the entirety of the pack waiting in various stages of unrest.

“They're ready,” Kagome told Katon. He rushed past her into the cave. 

“You okay?” Kouga asked.

“Just tired,” She demurred. “And in desperate need of a bath.”

“You smell pretty bad,” Kouga agreed.

“You're the one that looks like he's given-” She stopped, flushing hotly. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't,” Kouga told her. “It is what it is. Sight's one sense, and for a youkai, not all that important. Better that than my sense of smell.” He paused for a moment and smirked. “Except right now.”

She shoved him, making a rude sound.

“Come on,” He sighed, jerking his chin. Too tired to argue, she followed him through the cave, saw the rest of the pack beginning to relax, the oppressive anxiety lifting, sound returning and echoing off of the cave walls. Kouga led her over the paths, and she realized they were going to the spring.

“What are ookami traditions for births?” She asked quietly.

“Traditions?”

“I know humans have them.” She didn't remember most of them, but she knew they existed. 

“They're born, the pack welcomes them and takes care of them.”

“Everyone?”

“That's what packs do. They know who their parents are, but we all make sure they have what they need. Humans don't do that?”

Kagome shook her head. “I don't think so, but-” She shrugged. “I haven't been around humans in a long time.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes I miss my sister,” Kagome allowed, feeling as if she was failing for not missing her sister now as much as she had in Naraku’s fortress. “And Miroku and Kohaku. Even Inu Yasha, a little. But I know they're all taking care of each other. Humanity itself? I don't- It's been a long time since I lived in a village. I don't remember enough to miss anything, really.”

“Do you want to go back to them?”

“I should,” She murmured. “I spent years thinking about her, about-” Except it had only been survival, and Kikyou’s survival. “You missed your pack more than anything. But when I reunited with my sister-” 

Kouga allowed her to gather her thoughts, remained silent as she struggled to figure out what it was that kept her from missing her sister, the village.

“I don't think I'd fit in with anyone anymore.”

“You fit in with us just fine.”

She looked up at him, stunned. “Thank you.”

Kouga shrugged uncomfortably.

She hurried through cleaning herself off and rushed through cleaning her haori, not daring to take too much time. By the time she finished she was shivering, the cold water seeping into her bones. 

Howls rose up around her.

“His first moon,” Kouga explained. “They're welcoming him.”

She let herself smile, staring up at the cliffs where the sound was rising, swelling up into the darkness.

“He's the first baby born since the attack.”

“This is a good sign,” Kagome promised. “Your people are safe.”

Kouga ducked his head, a noncommittal sound her only answer. 

* * *

“Beautiful boy,” She cooed as he gummed on her finger.

“They pawned him off on you?” Kouga asked, sitting down next to her.

“I volunteered,” Kagome corrected. “Miyuki and Katon needed some time to themselves, and the others are hunting.” She waggled her fingers around the baby's face, letting him catch one. “I don't mind.”

“I think the kit is jealous,” Kouga advised her, smiling as he said it. It didn’t detract from the concern she heard.

“I don’t really know what to do,” She admitted, at a loss.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Kouga shrugged. “He’ll realize Kichirou is Miyuki’s, and you’re still his.”

“Is jealousy common among wolves?”

“Not usually. We know who our parents are, but everyone helps out.”

“Maybe Shippou is afraid.”

“Hmm?”

“We’re not wolves.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Kouga shrugged, as if species was meaningless. “Just growing pains.”

She felt warm at his easy dismissal of their otherness, as if their belonging was taken for granted. Selfishly, she wanted it to be.

* * *

“You all heal so quickly,” Kagome murmured, not a little envious. “I know children are a blessing but,” She looked down at her hands. “I also know sometimes you want a break between them.”

Miyuki nodded.

“A woman came to our village, a long time ago. She was-” She'd been a courtesan, or former, leaving the life behind her and desperate for a new start. “She knew methods of preventing conception. They're not perfect, but if you want to be with your mate without worrying-”

“I would like that,” Myuki told her, laughing. “I'm sure the others would too. We only know one way, and you have to depend on the males for that,” She added, rolling her eyes. Kagome flushed hotly, eliciting another laugh from the new mother.

* * *

“I hear you're teaching them how not to have babies.”

She was prepared for an argument, remembering men from her village and how they’d treated their wives like breeding stock. “I told them how to gain some control over when they do,” She said carefully. 

“It’s smart,” Kouga told her, and she felt herself relax. “Where did you learn it?”

“A courtesan came to our village, her patron had been killed in a land dispute. She never told anyone but Kaede, my teacher, what she'd been before. She traded knowledge for lodgings and food. Kaede was practical, she thought it was better for the girls in the village to know than not to.”

“And she taught you?”

“We were supposed to take her place,” Kagome reminded him. “I know herbs that can help prevent conception or induce abortion, but I'm not sure they'd work on youkai. Sometimes they don't even work on human women. Kaede wasn’t foolish enough to believe people would abstain, frankly I agree with her.”

“We’re not animals,” Kouga huffed.

“I’m not implying anything like that,” She retorted sharply. “Human or youkai, it’s normal.”

“Do miko-”

“What?”

“Your sister and Inu Yasha are mates,” He observed bluntly. “Human and hanyou.”

“I'm not sure we could really be considered miko. We never finished our training.”

“But you have power.”

Kagome lifted her shoulders. “But I couldn't tell you anything about the gods or recite a proper prayer. I couldn't complete a rite if my life depended on it,” She admitted. “And this power. I don't know where it comes from, or why we were born with it. It's difficult to consider it holy or divine, when it's caused so much heartache.”

“Hey,” He told her. “It's done plenty of good too. Miyuki and the other women were trained as warriors, not healers. None of them have ever been mothers. None of us would have known how to help her. Without your power, you never would have had that sort of training.”

She didn't tell him it felt like she could never do enough good to atone for her sins.

* * *

She was contemplating the sky, wondered if they’d need to find shelter. Kouga insisted it wouldn't rain, but she wasn’t entirely sure. 

“Sister!” A voice called out. She ignored it until she heard it called out several more times. Glancing up, she saw Ginta and Hakkaku running towards her, still calling out ‘sister’ over and over.

“Me?”

“Yeah you,” Ginta laughed. “Come on, we found a strawberry patch.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise!” Hakkaku chastised, rolling his eyes.

Neither commented on the new epithet, and she wasn’t sure how to, their hands pulling her behind them, gripping her kimono sleeves and giving her no choice but to keep up. 

When they arrived at the strawberry field, she found Shippou had already sat himself in a spot and greedily picking all of the berries in sight. He launched himself at her, clearly excited by his find.

“Your face is covered,” She laughed, wiping at Shippou's cheeks with her sleeve. “How- It's even in your hair.”

The more she tried to clean his face, the more he grumbled and protested the treatment, the more she laughed, finally giving up completely. He didn't bolt when she stopped, instead producing several strawberries in his sticky hands, some of them bruised and squished, gouges cut by his tiny claws.

“Thank you,” She told him, accepting them and biting into one, a satisfied hum buzzing in her throat. “You're still getting a bath,” She added.

“Kagome,” He whined.

“You'll have ants in your hair. Do you want that?” She said lightly, giving what she hoped was a stern look.

“Ants don't come out in the cold,” He grumbled.

“They will if there's such a tempting treat waiting.”

“There’s a stream nearby, cutting through the forest,” Hakkaku told her pointing.

“Traitor,” Shippou muttered, ruining any effect by eating more strawberries. She followed his direction to the treeline. A flit of yellow and orange burst, there and gone again. “Did you see that?”

The ookami shrugged. “Just some human girl.”

“Alone?” Kagome demanded. “There isn’t a village nearby is there?”

“Nothing.”

“Is there anyone else nearby?”

“Not that I can tell,” He added. “Why?”

“She’s a child in a forest by herself,” She muttered, already moving towards the treeline.

“What are you doing?” Kouga asked as he sidled up next to her, easily keeping pace with his longlegged stride.

“She’s a child, Kouga, and she’s alone.”

“Fine,” He sighed, head tilting up. “She’s scared.”

“Where is she?”

Kouga directed them along the treeline until pausing and moving into the forest. Kagome followed until he stopped and nodded towards a hollow. Kagome moved forward, knelt and saw the orange and yellow kimono peeking through the growth. 

“Hello,” Kagome said, looking at the little girl. “It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you.”

Her gaze was fastened beyond her though, staring in terror at the ookami.

“They won't hurt you either,” She tried.

“Wolves killed Rin.”

“It's alright. These are good wolves. They don't hurt people. They even saved me,” She coaxed gently. Kirara moved forward, mewling softly.

“What's your name?”

“Rin.”

Kagome frowned, but let it pass. “What are you doing out here by yourself Rin? These wolves wouldn't hurt you, but there are other people that might.”

“Lord Sesshoumaru told Rin to wait with Jaken, then Jaken disappeared.”

“Sesshoumaru,” Kagome repeated, recognizing the name from Kikyou’s stories. “Does he have a brother named Inu Yasha?”

“Yes, but he doesn't like him very much,” Rin said. “They fight a lot.”

“Siblings sometimes do. But I know Inu Yasha. He and my sister are mates.”

“Kikyou?” Rin gasped, looking up at her and eyes widening in recognition. “Kikyou was nice and showed Rin how to make a flower crown.”

“She taught me too, when we were very little,” Kagome confided, as if it was a secret. “She's better at it than I am though.”

“Rin got really good! I make them for Jaken and Ah and Un all the time!”

The girl’s fear abated as she moved forward, and Kagome offered her hand to help her up from the ground. A tiny hand clung tightly, surprisingly strong for such a little girl.

“There's a strawberry field just outside of the forest. Would you like to come with us until your guardian arrives?”

Rin's eyes lit up at the promise of fruit.

“Rin, this is Kouga,” She introduced, letting the girl lean into her, hazel eyes wide on Kouga’s form. “He won’t hurt you.”

Rin said nothing, holding more tightly to her. 

The bubble of excitement the girl had exhibited at the mention of her sister vanished, the tiny body clinging tightly to her the closer they got to the pack. Kouga followed at a respectful distance, breaking away when they were back in the field. Shippou gawked at the new arrival.

“Shipou, this is Rin. She is the ward of Inu Yasha’s brother, Sesshoumaru. Rin, this is Shippou.”

Rin remained silent, leaning into her side like she might be able to hide from everyone around her.

“You’re not scared of kitsune are?” Shippou challenged. “Not if you travel with Sesshoumaru.”

“Do you know him?” Rin asked quietly.

“Inu Yasha’s told me lots of stories,” Shippou said, as if he was an expert in Rin’s guardian. Rin shifted, leaned closer to the kitsune as he launched into a tale so ridiculous it had to be fantasy. Little by little the child began accepting strawberries.

“Youkai coming, pretty sure it’s him,” Kouga informed her.

“You all can go. I can catch up,” She told Kouga. “Kirara's with us.”

Instead of leaving, she saw the ookami began to group more closely to her, keeping her and the children in a loose, protective circle as the form drew closer. Rin spotted him, called out his name with a joy she’d lacked throughout the entire exchange, coming to life as she got to her feet and bolted for the youkai. More surprising was that the girl led him back, circling around him and chattering, brightly animated and staring adoringly up at her guardian.

They stopped in front of her, Rin making excited introductions.

“Lord Sesshoumaru,” She greeted quietly, respectfully inclining her head.

“You seem familiar.”

“You know my twin, Kikyou, Inu Yasha's mate.”

“I thought her twin was dead.”

“Naraku told many lies. Your brother aided in my rescue.”

“He forsakes his kind for humans, you forsake your kind for youkai.”

“I'm not sure we have a kind,” Kagome said quietly. “If we did, it was taken from us, and we find our own way now.”

Sesshoumaru didn't respond, gaze moving over Kouga and the other youkai that had remained still thus far.

“If you pass by the village, perhaps you could tell them I'm alright?”

“You presume I would seek out humanity.”

“Then if you see Inu Yasha? Rin made it sound like you cross paths on occasion.”

“If I cross paths with him,” Sesshoumaru said, nodding. “For the kindness you showed my ward.”

“You have my gratitude.”

With no other acknowledgment, not even a farewell, Sesshoumaru began walking past them, cutting through the protective circle of the pack.

“What a prick,” Kouga growled at Sesshoumaru's retreating figure.

“He can't be all bad.”

“How do you figure?”

“He takes care of Rin.”

* * *

It was the first hint of the summer to come. The air had grown balmy, the breeze itself gusting with an odd odor. At first she couldn’t put her finger on it, but something felt- Wrong. Off.

The smell wafted around her with the wind, coiling around her and sinking in, refusing to let go.

“What's wrong sister?” Katon asked, frowning.

“Nothing,” She said, shaking her head.

The smell only grew worse.

It was overwhelming now, a miasma. No matter how wide and open the world was, it still felt too small. Darkness threatened the edge of her vision.

“You okay?”

“I need a minute,” She muttered, stumbling as the smell filled her mouth, threatening to glut her on the rot. Even looking up to the sky only proved dizzying, the vastness full of putrefaction. 

“Real,” She muttered, eyes clenched shut as she tried to hold back tears. “It's real. It's real.” Her hands braced against the ground, dug into the rocky soil, pain shooting up her fingers. She couldn’t even remember falling.

“Kagome,” Kouga's voice said, right before she felt the world jerking back and forth around her. “Kagome. What's wrong?”

“You’re in there with me,” She whimpered, eyelids clenched shut. “Kikyou, Shippou,” She choked out. “You're all- You're not-”

“You're not making any sense,” Kouga tried, obviously frustrated.

The smell filled every inhale until it was all there was, the darkness behind her eyelids swallowing her down.

“He killed you,” She stammered. “Left you in the dark with me. I can't see- The smell- I can't stop- It's-”

Kouga muttered an oath. “There's a battlefield not far from here, a week old maybe. We've been skirting it.”

A battlefield. She opened her eyes, blinked against the light. She felt so stupid, suddenly. A battlefield, a mundane explanation. A quick glance showed the pack had walked ahead of them, leaving her behind. Shame suffused her, made her feel tiny, weak all over again. All over a smell.

“I'm sorry,” She mumbled, unable to meet his gaze. “I know it- I know you're all alive but-”

“But he left corpses in there to rot,” Kouga grunted bluntly. She nodded weakly. A moment later he inhaled, a sharp sound. “He told you they were us,” He said, comprehension dawning, followed by a curse. “That's why you thought I wasn't real. You thought I was dead.”

She curled more tightly into herself, or tried. Kouga's hands groped along her shoulders and down until he found her wrists, pulling them away from her chest.

“Hey, look at me,” He told her, shaking her gently. “Look at me.”

She sucked in a breath, glancing up at him, his sightless gaze on her faze, jaw set.

“I'm here,” He told her firmly. “I'm alive.”

She’d known for months that he was alive, that he had survived the ordeal, more or less intact. But now his hands gripped too tight and he was warm and real.

She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder and burst into tears. Two months in the darkness, weeks she’d staved off with physical healing, with relearning her sister and old skills and then with traveling, two moons of rot and anguish rose up, purged itself out as she clung to him, smelling clear rain and the burnt ozone of lightning, sharp forest smells and his too warm skin. Every cry pulled in more air until his life and his warmth obliterated the cold darkness. His arms tightened, made her feel anchored instead of floating in that nebulous void beneath Naraku’s fortress.

“I'm sorry,” She sniffed, wiping at her face as she withdrew.

“Hey, don't,” Kouga told her, frowning. “You think my pack doesn't have it's own memories? And I know you have to help Shippou with his nightmares about his parents.”

“But-”

“But nothing. We all suffered, we all have our memories to deal with. That's life. You've got nothing to be sorry for.”

Shippou moved closer, as if unsure of his welcome. She watched him, every movement as he crossed the space between them, finally getting into her lap and pressed his cheek to hers. She dragged in a sharp breath, exhaled a small cry as she ran her fingers through his hair, careful until she realize no bloodied tangles caught them. 

“I'm okay,” Shippou swore, as if understanding. It hurt to think he did.

She nodded, pulling him to her chest, the texture of his hair tickling her face. 

Miyuki walked over to her, green pine in her hands. “Here,” She said softly, offering the sharp smelling bundle. “This might help block the scent.”

“Thank you,” She mumbled.

The pack shifted around her throughout the day, and she felt conspicuous for how they grazed against her wordlessly, gravitating around her in an odd pattern she could never discern. They moved more quickly than usual, but no one complained, putting distance between the pack and whatever battlefield was in the distance. 

When they finally made camp, it was in the open, far away from the scent of rot and decay.

* * *

Kouga pushed them, herding them towards a mountain even as grey clouds threatened. They only just made it into one of the caves when the sky opened and rain began thundering down all at once.

“It's been forever since I've seen it like this,” Kagome admitted, staring at the rain in awe. The sound alone was enough to make her heart slam in her chest, the heavy downpour splashing against rock thundering just beneath her skin. “I know it's an inconvenience, but it's beautiful.”

“My papa and I used to play in it,” Shippou said.

“Would you like to play?” She asked quietly, unsure if she was treading on sacred ground. Shippou looked up at her, cautiously hopeful.

“Can we?”

Even if the pack refused entirely, his request decided it for her. “Of course.” She darted out from the cave and into the shower, the rain immediately soaking through her clothing. Spinning until she was dizzy, Shippou cheered in her arms, clawed fingers reaching out.

Shippou dove from her arms and transformed, the rush of magic exploding in a flash of color before water splashed her, a heavy stone landing in the puddle before he was transforming into himself again. She lunged clumsily after him, still dizzy. Other ookami joined them, calling out and cheering. A game of chase erupted, all of them pursuing Shippou as he wove and ran between their legs, circling around them and tangling them together. Kagome laughed, pushing hair away from her face as she watched the blur of colors and bodies, almost too fast for her to follow.

She slipped, landing with a loud screech in the puddle. Shippou dove into her arms, several ookami attempting to stop short and toppling into one another. Shippou crowed out a victory before launching himself from her arms, knocking the wind from her and drawing the ookami away. 

Kouga offered his hand and helped pull her to her feet.

“You smell like a wet dog,” He said, voice almost lost in the rain.

“You look like a drowned cat,” She retorted through her laughter. Kouga grinned. She followed him back to the cave, heard the cheering and calls of the pack still in the rain as she changed into dry clothes. She met Kouga at the entrance to the cave, watching the rest of them in sleepy contentment.

They filtered in, unashamed as they stripped and dried off. A small fire was started towards the front even as she retreated to her bedding, Shippou already drying himself off and yawning.

The pack began huddling in groups, keeping close for warmth. Kirara, who had forgone any games, remained large, let them use her as a warm pillow while they bedded down. Shippou, hair and fur still damp, quickly beginning to snore. Ginta and Hakkaku, in their wolf forms trotted over and draped themselves around her, tongues lolling out in canine smiles. 

“Thank you, Ginta, Hakkaku,” She mumbled sleepily.

“You recognize them,” Kouga observed, standing over their small group.

“Of course,” She said, yawning even as she pulled Shippou into her stomach.

Ginta made several ruffing sounds and Kouga rumbled something deep in his chest before sighing. “Go to sleep. Idiots.”

* * *

When she woke the next morning, she could sense something was wrong, but couldn’t see any sign of what had happened. Tension curled through the entire pack, all of them focused towards the mouth of the cave where Kouga, Ginta and Hakkaku stood.

“What's wrong?” She asked quietly.

“Birds of paradise,” Miyuki said quietly. “Youkai that eat our kind. They must have a nest further up the mountain. The rains muddled all the scents.”

“What do we do?”

“They’ve already begun circling. We’ll have to fight them.”

“Kichirou,” She began quietly. Miyuki nodded, lips thinning into a grim line. She walked back to the back of thecave where Shippou was and knelt in front of him.

“Shippou,” She murmured. “I need you to stay here with Kichirou.” She saw the protest forming, shushed him firmly. “He needs you to protect him. I trust you to keep him safe.”

“You’re trying to keep me out of the way,” Shippou accused, eyes watering.

“I need to keep you safe too,” She breathed into his hair, hating that she wasn’t any better at this. “Please Shippou, I can’t- I need you to be safe.”

She felt him nodding, let him slip back down to the ground and grabbed her bow and quiver. 

“Kirara, keep them safe,” She commanded, knowing the firecat understood before she left the cave and joined the others. Most had filtered out onto the mountain itself, few were even visible, and their eyes were fastened on the sky. Not even sure what she was looking for, she notched an arrow and kept her gaze up.

They descended abruptly, a flock of shadows that dropped down from the higher cliffs like they were tumbling instead of flying. With barely a sound Kouga launched himself, his claws bright like light as it tore into one, ripping it open.

Taking that as her cue, she lifted her bow and took care to aim for an enormous eye. The bird of paradise fell, screeching a death song. The cliffs grew louder, ookami howls and bellows mixing with the screeching and cries of the misshapen creatures assaulting them. 

The battle was dying down when she realized was out of arrows, saw Ginta pinned beneath a claw, the youkai readying to launch itself, taking it’s prey with it. She rushed the creature, pushing it away from Ginta and the moment the ookami was clear she let power flow through her, felt it buzzing along and under her skin. The creature struggled, a wing beating against her, slamming into her skull even as it toppled over the cliff’s edge.

She pitched forward, dizzied by the blow and wove unsteadily away from the edge. Claws dug into her shoulder, piercing and ripping flesh. The thing carried her up higher, higher into the sky.

Pain sung through her, power burning through her in a natural protest, blooming without control.

She was falling, plummeting.

Kouga's body curled around her as they rolled down the cliff side. They crash landed into Shippou's body, the giant soft thing he'd transformed himself into.

“Are you okay?” She demanded, panicking.

“Stop yelling in my ear,” Kouga groaned. “Are you okay?”

“I asked first,” She snapped. “You're bleeding.

“You're both bleeding,” Shippou pointed out, looking worse for the wear.

“Thank you,” She told Shippou, hugging him tightly. “That was very clever.”

“I see how it is,” Kouga groaned, shifting. “I get all the bruises and the brat gets all the glory.”

“Go get my pack ready,” She told Shippou quietly. “You know which one is my medicine bag.”

Shippou nodded quickly, already heading back towards the cave. She turned back to Kouga, who was bleeding from several gashes on his body, his armor torn and broken.

“I'm glad you're okay,” She said into his chest, ignoring all the aches and pains in her body to hug him. “You shouldn't have been so reckless.”

“Funny,” Kouga puffed out, returning her embrace. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

They hobbled into the cave to survey the damage. She didn’t see anything fatal, at least for a youkai. Even Ginta was upright, his armor discarded.

She sat, too tired to be self conscious when someone tugged and pulled at her haori until it was hanging around her waist and checked her back, gently prodding around the wounds. When they came around to the front, it was Kouga, running his fingers over punctures left by the creature's talons, sniffing.

“They're deep.”

“I have herbs for a poultice in my bag. I just need some water,” She mumbled when he began to run his hands over her head, finding the bloody knot when she'd been struck. “I have herbs for the others too, that will work on youkai,” She murmured. “Jinenji taught me,” She added, feeling stupid a moment later.

Kouga nodded solemnly. “I'll ask around. Fix yourself first.”

“Mine aren't that bad.”

“Kagome-”

“A little pain can wait,” She dismissed. 

“Someone who's not wounded, go get some clean water.”

“On it,” Someone called out.

“Shippou, did you dig out the bag of medicines?”

Shippou held the sack aloft. “Thank you,” She murmured. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Just some bruises, but I'm okay,” He promised.

“You were very brave, and very clever,” She told him, not shouting at him for leaving the safety of the cave. 

She went through them, going from wolf to wolf and checking wounds, applying poultices and making tonics to help with healing and pain. It didn’t escape her attention that they all huddled more closely than usual, a tighter circle within the cave. 

Once she’d checked everyone, she went back to Miyuki, saw the mother with her child and breathed a sigh of relief.

Even though it was barely midday, everyone stayed within the caves, resting in the aftermath. There were those taking refuge in one another, touching, holding one another close. Others had their eyes closed, but she doubted even they could sleep, saw fingers tapping out rhythms on their chests and stomachs. 

Needing to be outside despite the possible danger, she settled for sitting near the entrance to the cave, gaze on the sky.

“You should be resting,” Kouga told her as he sat down next to her.

“I'm still too awake,” She said, sitting down next to him. He'd forgone his armor, and her haori hung from her hakama, torso covered in her sarashi and winding bandages. The herbs helped soothe some of the pain, but she'd refrained from drinking any tinctures to further numb herself. There were still others in pain that might need her assistance.

“You'd be safe at the village,” Kouga said quietly.

“I'm happy here,” Kagome argued, just as quiet. “Unless you want me to leave. I'd understand. I'm human and you got hurt today protecting me.”

“No,” Kouga said quickly, shaking his head. “No. We never forget you're human. We don't mind, and you held your own. You saved Ginta,” He added. “But you were falling. I could hear it-”

“You saved me.”

“I thought the brat saved us?”

“He saved us. You saved me. Again,” She added, smiling. “Thank you.”

“I can't tell you to be more careful, can I?” He sighed, aggreived. 

“Probably not.”

“You're fierce,” He finally said, startling a laugh from her.

“Fierce?”

“It's a compliment,” He told her, smiling weakly.

She sighed, a wordless response that not even she completely understood. She had something worth it now, and wasn't sure how to say it aloud.

* * *

She was checking the wounds on her shoulder, pressing lightly on the skin and checking the temperature, looking for any hint of infection.

“Sister,” A quiet voice asked. Kagome turned, surprised to see Miyuki there.

“Yes?”

“Do you need any help?”

“I would be grateful,” She admitted quietly. “On my back, can you describe the wound?”

“It seems like it's healing,” Miyuki tried.

“The color, if it's leaking anything,” Kagome prompted.

Miyuki glanced at her front. “They look the same as this. I don't smell infection.”

Kagome huffed a laugh. “I forgot that. Sorry, I've always had to rely on sight and feel. Thank you.”

“Can you teach me how to heal?”

“Of course,” Kagome said, surprised by the request.

“Our healers were killed,” Miyuki explained. “The day of the attack, we were lured away from the caves. In the pack, we each have a role. But- It's not fair, expecting you to tend to all of us.”

“I don't mind.”

“I know, but what if you get hurt again? Worse than this,” Miyuki murmured. “Who would help you?”

Kagome stopped short of what she'd been about to say, because she hadn't thought of herself. She'd been worried, as she'd supposed Miyuki was, that there would be no one to help the other ookami. 

“We can start now,” She said, smiling despite herself. “I have to mix together another poultice for myself, and then prepare some for the others.”

Miyuki nodded, watching her as she began to mix herbs together. 

The ookami was a quick study, her sense of smell giving her the ability to recognize herbs more easily.

* * *

“Sesshoumaru’s coming.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Last time felt like he was waiting to kill all of us the whole time.”

She wondered at the observation. Sesshoumaru had been cold, even dismissive, but she hadn’t sensed any outright hostility. “Was there any reason?”

“Probably the girl. Wolves killed her. Could have been my pack, maybe someone else’s.”

“You’ve killed humans?”

Kouga hesitated, before drooping. “When the pack was bigger, we fought more often. Sometimes we were the aggressors. Sometimes we were defending ourselves. We’ve wiped out villages before.”

“You haven’t done anything like that since I came.”

“We haven’t done anything like that since Kagura killed most of us. We were bigger then, stronger.”

She puzzled over the information, felt the tension growing in the pack even as the small group came into view. They were following the same road going to opposite way.

“Hello Rin,” Kagome greeted, waving. “Jaken.”

The imp squawked indignantly, shaking his staff in her direction. “Do not pretend to be so familiar with-”

“I missed you Kagome!” Rin cried out, hugging her legs. “We saw Kikyou and Inu Yasha! I told Kikyou about the strawberries and we found this clearing and I can make you a crown!” Rin chattered, the words piling up on top of themselves.

The tension eased even as RIn’s gaze lit on Shippou, her small body launching towards his, words moving so quickly Kagome was surprised anyone could keep up. The children themselves declared a pause to their traveling without saying anything, taking Kirara and Ah Un off of the path and into the field, oblivious to the packs left behind.

Giving Sesshoumaru a cautious glance and seeing nothing but bland apathy, she followed the children, the pack going with them into the field. Hakkaku stayed close by while the some of the others moved into the forest, intent on finding food or firewood.

“She is not afraid of them,” Sesshoumaru observed.

Kagome watched Rin and Shippou playing with the wolves, their flower crowns slowly breaking apart. “When we first met, she said wolves killed Rin. I thought it was someone else, at the time. But it wasn't, was it?”

“She was brought back to life. But yes, wolves killed her.”

“Oh.”

Sesshoumaru's head tilted a fraction. “She's happy.”

“I think she's always happy with you, lord Sesshoumaru.”

“You are happy with this pack.”

Kagome watched the others, smiling. “I am.”

“You will never be one of them.”

“I will never be youkai, or ookami,” She agreed, not hurt by his statement. “Just as you will never be human or imp.”

The others came back shortly after that, Kouga leading the group and carrying a stag. Most of the others had their own game, everyone in good spirits. If there had been tension, or fear, it was gone with the preperations.

“Even your dragons will eat well,” Kouga called out as they began preparing the meal.

Rin and Shippou danced around them all, pausing when they got to Kouga. Rin leaned forward, eyes widening.

“You can’t see!”

It was the first time Kouga’s blindness had been mentioned since she’d joined him in her travels. Fumbling the meat in her hands, she tried her best not to appear as if she was listening to the conversation. If Miyuki’s concerned glance said anything, she was failing miserably.

“I can’t,” Kouga agreed. “Pretty sure the brat’s making faces at me though.”

Rin looked to Shippou, who was making faces, and burst out laughing, demanding to know how Kouga could know any such thing.

* * *

She felt the youkai before she saw them, knew the others were aware of the presences by their lack of reaction as they called out Kouga’s name, a demand and nota friendly greeting. Watching, she could only discern they were ookami, and nothing else.

“What’s going on?” She asked quietly, watching Kouga listening intently to the other youkai.

“There is a territory dispute between the northern tribe and a local clan, tengu. We’re allies to the north. They’re demanding we help.”

“A dispute?” Kagome murmured. It was so vague, and if it was a simple dispute, surely they wouldn’t need such a small pack to help them.

She watched the unfamiliar ookami disappear from sight, and only then did Kouga relax, but only barely.

“We’re moving north,” She guessed.

“We are,” Miyuki agreed.

“You’ll need to ride Kirara,” Kouga told her, facing in her direction. There was no pretense of who he was speaking to. “We have to get there quickly.”

“Miyuki can ride with me,” She said firmly. “And carry Kichirou.”

Kouga nodded his agreement. 

“I feel lazy,” Miyuki confided as they flew above the others. Kagome contemplated the small pack running beneath them, Shippou secure at her front, Kichirou safe between her and her friend. 

“Don’t. If we have to fight, we’ll need the rest,” She said firmly, wondering if they would have to fight, or if they were being brought in for intimidation. She didn’t know anything about the northern tribe, what kind of pack they were. Maybe they were pacifists, or maybe they were an even smaller tribe.

“Tell me about them,” she requested.

“I don’t remember much,” Miyuki told her, apologetic. “They’re spiritual types, not much for fighting. And they stay in one place. Not like us at all.”

It took two days of breakneck pace before they made it to whatever space was marked, Miyuki finally telling her they’d arrived.

She directed Kirara down, descending to the group and coming up beside them. She could feel the approaching youki, unfamiliar and grating against her skin unpleasantly.

“Maybe I’d better stay back,” She murmured to Hakkaku. He and Ginta stopped, looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

“We're not ashamed of you,” Ginta told her, frowning. “You should be with us when we meet them.”

“I'm a miko,” She reminded him, noticing other members of the pack were beginning to listen. “You know I'm an ally, but other youkai might not. I don't want to make things difficult.”

“You’re staying with us,” Miyuki said firmly. She looked towards the front, but it was as if Kouga was oblivious, saying nothing. Taking his silence as affirmation, she stayed between Ginta and Kirara, a calming hand on Shippou’s leg as he rode the firecat, tension radiating from his tiny form.

A group of ookami appeared, as if from nowhere, and stopped their advance. They conversed quietly with Kouga for several minutes before allowing them to pass. 

“That’s the tribe elder,” Miyuki explained. “And his granddaughter, Ayame. I remember her from years ago. I think she’s next in line for tribe leader.”

Whatever it was they were saying, no one in the small group was happy.

“You gave your word,” Ayame said, abruptly louder than she'd been before, reaching even her human ears.

“We'll help you fight,” Kouga answered firmly. 

“What about the miko?” One of the ookami asked. Abruptly she felt pinned by dozens of stares, eyes scraping over her form.

“She's none of your concern,” Kouga said, a clear warning.

“She's a _miko_ -”

“She's our sister,” Ginta growled, the first time she’d ever heard him speak to anyone in such a way.

“She has our trust,” Hakkaku added, equally aggressive. “In all things.”

The declaration fell on her, stunning her into mute shock.

They were allowed to pass, Ginta and Hakkaku, Myuki on three sides as if guarding her from the outside, Shippou at her side, riding Kirara. Feeling too conspicuous by half, she slid her fingers through Kirara’s fur, took strength in the fact that her pack had surrounded her, was standing by her. 

They made camp in one of the caves, further away from the cliffs where she saw the northern pack, with their fair pelts standing out against the rocks.

“Stupid,” Ginta muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Hmm?”

“They’re not letting us close because you’re a miko,” Hakkaku explained.

“It’s foolishness,” Miyuki added.

“It’s not,” She reminded them. “Miko are dangerous to youkai.”

“But you’re not,” One of the others added, obviously just as annoyed by the circumstances.

Except she was, and had been. “Don’t worry about me,” She told them firmly. “I don’t need anyone to be offended on my behalf.”

However, when Kouga came back to the cave, he looked haggard, worn down by whatever it was he’d discussed with the Northern tribe. Instead of seeking him out, she remained to the back of the cave where Miyuki had bullied her for safety. Anxious she was part on whatever it was that had him so frustrated, she busied herself with her bow, restringing it with care.

* * *

The next morning she sought out the stream that had been close by, within sight. Giving the cliffs a wide berth, she took care to make sure she was in the open until she got to the stream’s edge. Then she followed it down, away from the cliffs until she found a relatively secluded spot. The water was cold, washed away nightmares that had risen up from the dark the night before. Cold and bright banished them until she felt vaguely human again. 

She felt the brush of youki before looking up and seeing Ayame staring at her like she was something strange, maybe dangerous. The feeling only recalled her dreams the night before, defensive frustration rising up.

“Hello,” She greeted as calmly as she could.

“I don't understand,” Ayame said, staring at her. Any pretense of pleasantries vanished. 

“Why the pack would allow a miko to travel with them?” Kagome asked.

“Why a miko would travel with a pack, why Kouga would trust you.”

“I can't answer the latter,” She admitted. “He has more cause than most to distrust me, and I don't pretend to understand the hearts of youkai or humans.”

“Why travel with a pack of ookami then?”

“Many reasons.”

“I don't trust evasive answers.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Ayame that was too bad, and it was none of her affair. But the potential insult it might cause, and trouble for Kouga's pack in any capacity, stopped her. They were already facing one conflict, there was no reason to add to the tension. “I have a restless spirit, and don't like staying in one place too long.”

“Other humans travel. Why not with them?”

“I've spent much of my life living among youkai and hanyou.”

Ayame frowned at her. “That doesn't explain Kouga.”

“He allowed me to travel with him, and so I do. Why is beyond my understanding, as I said. You would have to ask him.”

“He promised to mate me, once. He swore under a lunar rainbow. Now he won't speak of it.”

The abrupt shift made her list, surprised honesty out of her.

“I can’t speak of his heart because I don't know it,” Kagome began, hesitant. “But I know time and experience can change people. He may not be the same person that made that promise to you.”

“It shouldn't matter, a promise is a promise.”

“I envy ookami how free they feel,” Kagome told her. “It seems to be in everything you are.”

“Are you insinuating I'd trap him?” Ayame snapped.

“No. I'm saying Kouga is honorable, and I have no doubt if asked he would keep his word, no matter the personal cost. Just as you would. But what joy would you hold in your union? Would either of you feel free?”

“You don't know what you're talking about,” Ayame snarled.

“You're right,” She admitted, feeling like the conversation had careened wildly out of control, into some place she couldn’t begin to grasp. “I'm sorry.”

Her apology only seemed to further confuse and anger the ookami, who stalked away. The tension remained long after she had disappeared from view.

* * *

“Stay on the cliffs,” Kouga told her. “You have a long range weapon.”

He was right, and she did. That didn’t mean she didn’t resent being told to stay out of the fray. 

“I mean it,” He told her. “You’re a miko, if they see you they’ll take the first chance they get to kill you.”

She understood, being human, being a miko made her an easier target and a threat. “Okay,” She finally said, seeing him relax.

Her view of the canyon below did nothing to dim her apprehension. Even if the tengu had a smaller force, even if they had the advantage of surprise, she knew it wouldn’t be easy. Youkai battles could last for hours, had heard too many stories to think it would be over quickly. Pulling an arrow from her quiver, she waited for whatever signal they would give for the fighting to start.

Kouga was one of the first to drop down into the trap, one of the first figures to vanish in the mob as they collided, combined into nothing but an indistinguishable mass. The sounds of fighting, of weapons and rage filled the canyon, echoed off of the tall walls. Taking care, she let her sight wander along the fray, saw one of the tengu launching himself up into the air and took aim. Her arrow flew, struck and exploded in light, the tengu plummeting back to the earth. She continued that way, focusing intently on the battle, on hitting the enemy and not one of the ookami.

It was the only reason she didn’t feel the youki of the tengu before it was too late, the youkai coming down from the sky, bearing down on her. Panicking, she pulled and arrow free, attempted to aim but the body slammed into her, throwing them both back and off of the outcropping of rock. It scrambled for purchase and she clung to it, determined not to die falling into a canyon.

She fell the last several feet, eyes on the tengu’s hands grabbing for her, a blur of color and sound. Her body began reacting, power rising from her hands and reaching, grabbing for the youkai even as her understood his mistake and tried to escape. Ash crumbled in her palms, the rest of the body falling away intact. The brief relief at victory lost when she felt the slash of pain on her leg. Spinning she caught the youkai, a female with wild eyes and snarled, power rising like the sound, lost in moments when the tengu fell to the ground, eyes unseeing.

She pulled the sword from the tengu’s hand and began to slash, ignoring the pain. She pushed forward through the tangle of youkai. Only passingly familiar with a sword as a weapon, she kept her movements tight and controlled, slashing and stabbing only the tengu closest to her, using the metal as a conduit. 

Once, twice she found herself backed up against an ookami, one she didn’t recognize, once from her pack that she only gave a flash of acknowledgment before she stabbed into another body. So focused on finding the next tengu she was stunned when there was suddenly nothing, howls rising up around her and swelling, crashing through the canyon like a physical thing, a shudder rolling down her spine.

The fight was over, bodies littering the ground. Unsure how she knew, she was certain they’d won. Relief crashed down, the abrupt realization that it was over sapping her of the adrenaline that had pushed her through the conflict. Looking around she saw other equally haggard expressions, ookami limping away, shouting orders, ookami binding the hands and wings of the remaining tengu.

She was surprised when Miyuki stumbled into her, form sagging. The body suddenly using her for support almost bowled her over, and she just managed to keep herself upright. “I hope we never have to do this again,” She admitted, sword hanging limply by her side.

“Me too,” Miyuki groaned. Kagome gave her a once over, saw only superficial wounds, already beginning to heal.

“Let's find that mate of yours, and then you can help me patch up the wounded.” Miyuki nodded, both of them taking care not to stumble over the bodies crowding the canyon floor before the cliff faces opened abruptly into the fields. Katon found them, assuring himself of their safety before retreating again.  
  
Shippou came to her with waterskins and herbs ready. At first only Kouga's pack came to her, but soon she noticed ookami she didn't recognize allowing themselves to be treated by her. Eventually she stopped noticing faces at all. When supplies began to dwindle, she called out to several of them and gave them bits of her supply so they could search out replacements, noting she didn't expect them to find everything, but even one or two would help. She was too busy to be surprised or pleased that they obeyed without question.

“Come on sister,” Miyuki groaned, getting to her feet. “It's your turn.”

Without a shred of consideration for those still surrounding her, she slipped her haori down and almost stopped when Miyuki hissed.

“You should have seen to those sooner.”

“I'm fine.”

“Blood on your leg too.”

She hadn't even noticed, her legs numb from sitting too long.

“I'll gather your supplies. That needs to be properly cleaned.”

“When did you get so bossy?” She demanded, unable to stop the wince when she got to her feet. Pain lanced down her leg, a path of fire that was beginning to spread out, almost like a burn.

“I learned from my teacher,” Miyuki huffed. “Ginta!”

“I'll bring your supplies to you. Clean that.”

“She's as bad as you,” Ginta chuckled as he carried her.

“Worse. She's a mother,” Kagome returned. “All mothers know how to speak so.”

Ginta laughed outright. “I think you’re selling yourself short.”

“Is Kouga alright?”

“He's fine. They captured the leader of the tribe and he and the elder are figuring out what to do with him now.”

None of her business, she supposed.

“He's mad though.”

“Who?”

“Kouga. You were supposed to stay on the cliffs.”

“One of them found me and broke my bow.”

“You were brave,” Ginta told her. “But he'll probably yell at you.”

“I hope he waits until I've had some sleep,” She grumbled.

Ginta laughed again.

She was cleaning her leg and trying to remember how the wound had happened when she felt Miyuki’s hand move down her shoulder, gently checking the wound. 

“You need proper armor. That clothing does nothing to protect you.”

“I hope we won't fight enough to need it.”

She accepted her friend’s help cleaning her wounds and bandaging them. Miyuki helped her dress again and helped her to her feet. Kirara was waiting. With Miyuki's help she pulled herself up into the warm fur.

* * *

The smell of food made her stomach growl and woke her up. Her eyes crossed when she saw the bowl being waved in her face.

“That smells too good to be real,” She said, pushing herself up and wincing as she pulled at her wounds. Waving off Hakkaku's concern she accepted the bowl and realized it was the first time in months she'd even used a bowl, even more surprised by the sight of forest greens beneath strips of meat. “Thank you.”

“One of the northern tribe wanted to thank you for patching up his mate,” Hakkaku told her, sitting down. “Especially after last night. I don't think anyone missed it. Except you.”

“Missed what? Is everything okay?”

“You passed out before you even made it back,” Hakkaku laughed. “Kouga found out you were back and started shouting at you and there you were, face first in Kirara's fur and snoring. Miyuki blistered his ears and then Shippou got started. You didn't notice a thing, just kept snoring away.”

Heat burned her cheeks, crept up until she was sure her whole body was burning. “Oh no.”

“It's fine. You were exhausted and everyone got a good laugh out of it. Not often we get a laugh after the battle.”

“Did we lose any of ours?”

“Wounded, but no losses.”

“And the northern tribe?”

“A few,” Hakkaku admitted. “Inevitable, they don’t fight, not like us. You impressed a the other tribe though.”

She shrugged, uncomfortable with anyone from the northern tribe looking at her in any capacity.

“Kouga’s been frustrated,” She observed lightly.

“They’re pushing for a mating.”

“Oh.”

“Not going to happen,” Hakkaku said with easy confidence.

“What’s a lunar rainbow?”

“It’s a rainbow cast by moonlight. It’s rare.”

“Sacred,” She clarified, staring at the ground.

“Yeah.”

* * *

Ayame found her by the river, washing the blood from her haori and hakama. She felt vulnerable, the flesh of her back open to perusal.

“Ayame,” She greeted, continuing to wash her clothing as if she didn’t feel like she was being weighed, considered. 

“He won't tell me what happened to his eyes, and the pack isn't saying anything.”

It was a demand for an answer, and she was too raw, too tired from contemplating the future, the pack’s and her own. 

“They don't know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. He probably hasn't told anyone to avoid further conflict.”

“Conflict?”

“I did it,” She admitted softly. “When he was Naraku’s prisoner.”

She looked up, saw the consternation, the fury in Ayame’s features, felt the wolf’s confusion as if it were her own. “He allows him to travel with you,” Ayame finally said, as if unable to find anything else to say.

“I don't know why,” Kagome told her, meeting her gaze evenly. “I told you before, I don't understand why. He's a good leader for his pack, and he protects them all. I can't imagine why he'd let me anywhere near them. I can't- I don't know why he'd want me anywhere near him.”

“You owe him a debt,” Ayame said, clearly as confused as she was, as if she needed an answer as desperately as Kagome did. 

Kagome let out a weak, exhausted laugh, little more than an exhalation. “I thought so too, at first. My powers are useful. But he's always treated me as a friend, with kindness and respect. I don't-” Her voice pitched uncertainly. “I wish I knew how he does, so that I could try to learn how to be that strong.” She looked down at her hands, spread her fingers wide and remembered how awful it had been to blind him. 

Ayame was gaping at her, eyes wide as if she could see the moment trapped behind Kagome's eyes. Kagome let her hands relax and looked away.

“I don't understand any of it,” She repeated softly. “But I know I'm becoming a better person for knowing him. I've learned to content myself with that, even if the why is beyond me.”

Ayame got to her feet, eyes trained on her even as she backed away from the river's edge. Kagome felt like something dangerous, something untrustworthy suddenly. It was worse than what she'd felt in the fortress, worse than being in the village with people she'd guarded, the ones she'd hurt. Ayame's gaze reminded her that no matter how much she seemed trusted, she hadn't begun to atone for her sins.

She sniffed once, again. A moment later she realized she was crying and angrily wiped at her face. No matter how quickly she wiped her tears away, they were replaced.

“Why are you crying?” Hakkaku asked, walking up to her side.

“It's nothing,” She sniffed, splashing water on her face.

“We knew when we saved you,” Ginta said quietly. 

“That you were the one that blinded him,” Hakkaku added.

Kagome stilled, heart in her throat when she realized what they'd said, understood that they'd heard everything. Worse than that, they'd known. They'd always known who and what she was.

“He insisted on saving you, no matter what it took.”

She clenched her eyes shut.

“His resolve to save you was all we ever needed to know about the situation,” Ginta told her.

“I'm sorry.”

Hakkaku’s gaze was nothing short of compassionate, free of recrimination. “Why? You've done us no wrong. If Kouga thought you had, he's forgiven you.”

“I took the moon from him.”

“Sight’s nice,” Ginta told her. “But seeing the moon isn’t important to our kind. Besides, you allowed him to find the goraishi.”

Running a hand through her hair she saw both ookami still watching her. “I don't understand.”

Hakkaku's smile was sympathetic. “Our leader is no less than he was, he's more. Part of that was because he knows you.”

“You're both very kind,” She said, unable to believe either of them. “But-”

“No buts. If Kouga thought otherwise, you think you wouldn't know?” Ginta demanded softly.

She forced a watery smile. “Thank you,” She told them, trying to sound sincere and knowing she failed. Their attempts to soothe her made it all the worse.

He found her further afield than the others, trying to find calm before going back to the camp. 

“Hey,” Kouga said, hunkering down in front of her. “What's wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” She told him, grateful he couldn't see her expression.

“Liar,” He accused. “Ginta and Hakkaku told me what you talked about.”

“I don't understand why you don't hate me.” 

“He stole nine years of your life,” Kouga said quietly. “Locked you up and took everything from you.”

“That doesn't excuse it,” She protested hotly.

“You trusted me with your sister and the kit.”

She shook her head, opening her mouth to speak when he stopped her.

“My father taught me that trust is the most important thing, above everything else. The pack trusts me with their lives, to lead them. You trusted me with the people you were willing to sacrifice everything for, people you had sacrificed everything for.” Kouga's hands moved over her face, first his fingertips sliding along her cheeks, up around the outline until he was holding her face between his callused palms. “Knowing that you- You had every right to never trust anyone again, and you trusted me.” He sounded awed, as if he'd witnessed a miracle.

“I know you're good-” She tried.

“I know you're good,” He interrupted. “Just like I knew I could trust you with my pack. Have either of us been wrong?”

She rested her hands on top of his. Again, he’d upset every expectation, left her scrambling for some sense of what to do, what to say. “Thank you.”

“I could do without you pulling all the reckless shit you do though,” He chuckled. “But you care about them.”

She nodded, throat too tight to speak.

“So there's no point in trying to stop you,” He said quietly. “Fierce, like I said.”

“I'm not sure I would know how to be fierce, if I hadn't met you,” She managed.

“So what you're saying is, I have no one to blame but myself,” He sighed, the words a mockery of lament.

“You're such an ass,” She huffed, smiling despite the comment. Kouga grinned, thumbs smoothing over her cheeks, down to graze the corners of her lips where they'd quirked up.

“You're starting to sound like us.”

“Maybe I'll start howling someday too.”

“Never know,” He told her, sobering. “Do you still feel powerless?”

She closed her eyes, feeling strangely vulnerable even though he couldn't see her, his eyes watching, hands still resting on her face like she was something to be held carefully, something worth care. “Yesterday it felt like I could destroy an entire army.” She took a deep shuddering breath. “And sometimes it feels like my world is held in someone else's hands.”

“Yeah,” He agreed, pressing their foreheads together. His breath puffed against her face, the scent of his hair and skin and sweat filling her lungs. “Sounds about right.”

He straightened, got to his feet and held out his hands to help her up.

“Come on.”

She let him tug her to her feet and frowned when he turned his back to her, hunching. “What?”

“I can carry you.”

“I'm fine.”

“Miyuki will castrate me if I let you walk back.”

“Wouldn't want her yelling at you again would we?” She drawled.

“She wouldn't have yelled at me-”

“If you hadn't been shouting at my unconscious, wounded body?”

“You know what?” He tried.

“What?” She laughed.

“Nevermind,” He muttered. “Just hop on.”

She did as she was told, looping her arms around his neck. 

“Seeing the moon is nice,” Kouga told her quietly, gaze moving upward as they walked back to the pack. She followed his gaze, saw the moon in the sky, an imperfect half that reflected down at them. “But that’s not how it works for us. It moves our blood, like the tides. You didn’t take that from me.”

* * *

She worked efficiently, checking over the wounded and replacing bandages where needed. No one complained or regarded her with distrust. Despite that she couldn’t quell her anxiety, worried that at any moment Ayame would crash through them, announcing her sins to everyone.

“Thank you,” The elder said. “Our own healers have taken great pains to remind me of your service to both packs. The extra aid has been much appreciated.”

Kagome nodded, unsure of what to say, youkai and ookami customs beyond her. “I'm sorry for your losses.”

“It could have been much worse,” The elder allowed. “Had a miko not been fighting on our side. You contributed much, during and after the battle.”

She nodded again, still unsure of what to say. “I hope there will be peace in the future,” She finally said. “A time for our packs to heal and flourish.”

“Well said,” The elder rumbled. “Our healers would like to speak to you, if you’re a mind.”

“Of course. If possible, Miyuki should join us, she’s my apprentice.”

The elder called for one of the younger ookami, telling him to find Miyuki. He began walking and she followed behind, noting that other ookami, ones she didn’t recognize, gave her considering glances. She was being weighed, judged, and she wasn’t sure where she fell in their regard, their expressions giving nothing away. That she was being watched only made her more nervous, as if they would be able to peel back the facade of the miko that had helped them to reveal who she had been before.

“Hello,” She greeted after she was introduced to a small group of women, some older, some younger.

After exchanging greetings and listening carefully, she understood they wanted to trade knowledge, felt an odd sort of pleasure that she knew anything worth sharing. 

She began explaining what she had been taught, listening when the other healers told her about the herbs they used. Some of them were unique to the northern region, but not completely unknown to her. That they worked better on ookami was a revelation, and she listened carefully, taking note of proportions and mixtures. At some point Miyuki joined them, taking a seat next to her and listening just as avidly.

That information shifted, bits of custom bleeding in, and those she drank in, asking questions because that knowledge had been lost to Kouga’s tribe. She did notice that Miyuki remained silent throughout the exchange, wondered at her solemn regard until they were dismissed in favor of making rounds of the wounded.

“Are you alright?” She asked her friend as they left the caves behind.

“Yes, why?”

“You were so quiet.”

“I’m your apprentice,” Miyuki reminded her gently.

Oh. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that. “I didn’t really like it,” She finally admitted. “You should be allowed to ask questions.”

“There’s a hierarchy to all things,” She reminded her. “You care, not just about our bodies. Our traditions, things we’ve lost. You remember that,” Miyuki told her, smiling. “I’m grateful.”

“Even if I’m a miko?”

“A wolf’s miko,” Miyuki said, grinning.

* * *

One of the healers was taking the time to explain the intricacies of a funeral rite to her when she saw Kouga join the group of elders, shoulders squared. Despite trying to give her full attention to the healer, she couldn’t help but be distracted. To all appearances the elders were thanking Kouga for his aid in the conflict. While sincere, the elder’s tone sounded stilted, as if unused to saying the words.

“And what of your vow?” Ayame's grandfather demanded, voice beginning to carry. She realized she wasn’t the only one watching the small group.

“I'll fulfill my oath,” Kouga announced, hands in loose fists at his sides. 

She couldn’t see his face, his back to her. Suddenly she was desperate to see his face, to get out, to be anywhere than where she was.

Ayame stepped forward, vivid eyes wet with the sheen of tears. “She was right.”

Kouga frowned.

“You would keep your promise, you don't know how not to.”

“I-” Kouga faltered. “Yes.”

“But it would just be a promise shackling us both, wouldn't it? We wouldn't be free.”

“Ayame,” An elder began.

“I absolve you. I absolve us both,” She announced, her words carrying through the entire cave. 

“Ayame!” One of the ookami snapped.

“You can't force me,” Ayame told them. “Punish me if you want, but I won't trap either of us in a bond like that.”

“This is about more than childish whims,” Her grandfather admonished. 

“Kouga is our ally, and has proved even without being my mate he will fight with us. Why must he give up his tribe's traditions?” Ayame demanded. “The eastern wolves have always been nomads, and the northern tribe is not. Why should I force him to give up the way of his people when he's already proved he will be our ally? What right do I have to make such a demand?”

Ayame's grandfather stared at her intently. “As you will it, if Kouga will not press the issue.”

“I have no desire to force anyone into a mating,” Kouga told them. “I would we remain allies.”

“Allies,” Ayame’s grandfather agreed.

Kouga gave a respectful nod, absenting himself. Turning back to the healer, she gave a quick, apologetic nod before getting to her feet, feeling conspicuous in Kouga’s wake. The cave teemed with barely there whispers, a volume only youkai could understand. She made it to the mouth of the cave and into the brightness of the day, scanning the cliffs for Kouga’s form.

“Kagome,” Ayame called out. “Please wait.”

Heart in her throat, she stopped and waited, prayed she wasn’t about to be outed as a monster, that Ayame wasn’t going to announce to the pack what she’d done.

Instead, Ayame took both of her hands in her own, almost too tight. Red cheeks clashed with her red hair, green eyes wavering, tear bright. “You lied.”

“I'm- I'm sorry,” Kagome began uncertainly.

“You do know the heart.”

“I'm sorry,” She repeated, comprehension beginning to dawn. Ayame shook her head vehemently.

“No. I- Some part of me might have been bitter, once. But even though my heart hurts, it would consume me if I'd forced him. You saved us both from that.”

Kagome flushed hotly, unsure of how to respond to the heartfelt declaration. 

“You don't even know,” Ayame laughed wetly. “And that's why I can't hate you.”

Kagome frowned. “I don't understand.”

“Exactly,” Ayame sniffed. “I do though. And maybe I can be as wise as you.”

Protest seemed inconsiderate, and Kagome foundered, unsure of what to say, what to do. “I hope you find happiness,” She said, the only honest thing that came to mind.

“I hope someday you understand your heart,” Ayame told her, squeezing her hands once before releasing them and stepping back. 

More uncertain than she’d been moments before, she stumbled backwards, spun on her heel and began following the easiest path down to the lower cliffs where the pack waited. Kouga was further down, as if he’d been waiting for her. Given the circumstances, she felt it safe to assume he had.

“What was that all about?” Kouga asked.

“I'm not entirely sure,” Kagome admitted, frowning. “How are you?”

“It would be awful to say relieved, wouldn't it?”

“Why?”

“I promised her. We were young, but I still promised.”

“She absolved you,” She murmured. “I think she understands you were both different people when you made that promise.”

“It’s best we leave today anyway, just in case someone changes their mind.”

“Do you think we’ll come back?”

“You’re the last person I expected to ask that.”

“There are things Miyuki and I were learning, your people’s traditions,” She said quietly. 

Kouga heaved a sigh, gave her a grateful smile. “We’ll come back.”

“Are there other packs you’re allies with?”

“A few.”

“Tell me.”

* * *

She’d been playing with Kichirou, watching him roll onto his stomach and then onto his back again when the small mouth gumming her finger turned into a tiny snout with little, sharp teeth.

“Oh,” Kagome said, staring at the small wolf cub. 

“You okay?”

“He transformed,” She said, staring up at Kouga. “For the first time.”

“He'll start growing like a weed now,” Kouga laughed.

“He wasn't before?”

“It's easier for them to move like this. He'll get stronger,” Kouga said, scratching along the cub's scruff. “Miyuki and Katon will be thrilled.”

* * *

“Something feels off,” She said, stopping. There was an odd quality to the air, a barely charged static that needled her skin insistently. Spinning slowly, she kept her eyes wide open, tried parsing what was wrong with the world around her. Others began to take notice as well, as if they hadn’t noticed until it was brought to their attention.

“Holy people,” Shippou said. “There’s-” He visibly groped for an explanation, jumping down from Kirara’s back and walking around. She followed him closely when she heard a triumphant noise. “You can’t hide from a fox,” Shippou declared triumphantly, holding a small paper up. “Illusion. They’re hiding themselves.”

“Are there more?” She asked quietly, gesturing for him to keep his words quiet.

Shippou moved quickly, eyes scanning the forest around them, pulling scroll after scroll from thin air before quietly telling her that was all he could find.

“Do you think we can run?”

“They always follow,” Kouga muttered bitterly.

“How many?” She asked quietly.

“Nine, I think,” Kouga said quietly. “Close.”

“That's too many.”

“It's not-”

“Kouga, we have no idea how strong they are, they could trap all of you.”

“It's safer in a group.”

“What about the children and Shizou? She's pregnant,” She hissed quietly. “Get the children, Miyuki and Shizou on Kirara. Everyone else needs to run. I’ll stay-”

“We’ll stay,” He said, leaving no room for argument. “Everyone, you heard.”

There were no arguments as the ookami loaded themselves and Shippou onto Kirara. With a tight nod, there was a burst of movement, a violent tangle of sound and colors as Kirara burst up through the canopy and the pack scattered through the forest.

She let her power swell at the same time, hoping it would draw the attention of whatever holy people were in the area. An answering swell crashed against her and Kouga, eliciting a bestial snarl that exploded out of his chest in challenge. Pulling an arrow free she nocked it against the bowstring.

“Nine,” Kouga confirmed, a growl in his chest. Keeping a loose hand on her bow, she brought it up, listening for the sounds humans couldn’t help but make.

When they arrived, the monk’s made no attempt to hide themselves or their hatred for Kouga. Their features contemptuous when they landed on her, as if they knew she was Kouga’s pack. Furious, she let her body shift closer to Kouga, intent clear. Furious satisfaction welled up in her when their expressions twisted into disgust.

“Let us pass,” She said calmly, proud that her words were cool, bordering on indifferent. 

“Filth,” One finally said.

“We only wish to pass through,” She warned, holding her bow steady.

“Witch,” The oldest monk spat, a sealing spell clutched in his fingertips.

“Call me whatever you like, my arrow will find it's mark regardless,” She replied coldly.

The sealing scroll cut towards Kouga. She released her arrow, immediately drawing another and aiming it, letting it fly and repeating the motion, chaos erupting around her. Inimical magics crashed, the sound of bodies rupturing, falling, light bursting and enraged bellows filled the forest. With Kouga behind her she trusted her back, was able to focus on the threats in front of her. When they came too close she pulled the sword from Kouga’s waist and began slashing, magic and steel combining, cutting them down. The monks magic sustained the fight longer than any other human, but they were still human, falling far more quickly than the youkai she’d fought over the past months.

The abrupt quiet in the forest shocked her system, as if every creature had fled, leaving her and Kouga gasping for breath in the middle of the carnage. 

Humans. She'd killed humans. Nine bodies on the ground around her, all in various states of dismemberment. Their deaths hadn’t been at all easy. Blood splattered her haori, seeped up from her sleeves towards her shoulders. Several of them in front of her.

“Are you okay?” Kouga demanded.

“Yeah,” She exhaled, looking away from the carnage. “The others-”

“Fine, so far as I can tell. They didn’t waste time.”

“Are there any other monks?”

“Not that I can smell. Can you feel any more illusions?”

She tried focusing, adrenaline spiking her system, making it difficult to parse what was her own inner tension and an unnatural tension in the world. Feeling nothing, she shook her head. “I think it’s safe.”

“Let’s get some distance,” Kouga said, still scenting the air, listening carefully. “I don’t trust this place.”

She followed him through the forest, trying to weigh speed against sound, unable to be as quiet as Kouga. Little by little the forest sounds returned, filling the wood around them. It made her feel slightly more at ease as they navigated. Trusting that he was following whatever path the others left, she wondered what would happen when someone found the dead monks, if anyone would find them. 

They broke into a clearing and she realized the sun had begun it’s descent, the sky itself redorange.

“Kirara!” Kouga called out, voice reaching up into the sky. She heard Kirara respond, then she was dropping down to them. Shippou launched himself from the firecat’s back and into her arms, squeezing her neck.

“You're okay,” She breathed, holding him close and breathing in his scent. Small arms circled her neck, held her tightly. 

“Miyuki, is everyone okay?”

“Fine,” Miyuki told them, holding her cub close. “We all managed to outrun them. The others went east, they’re waiting together.”

Kagome nodded, releasing a breathe she hadn't been aware of holding.

“And you?” Miyuki demanded. “You both look worse for wear.”

“We’re fine,” She sighed. “Everyone-”

“Is alright,” Miyuki repeated.

“We need to get a move on. I want out of this forest tonight” Kouga rumbled.

Quickly letting Shippou go and getting him back on Kirara, she refused Miyuki’s offer and walked side by side with Kouga, Kirara and her riders next to them. They pushed on, the night growing, the shadows stretching further and further. Shippou lit the way for her with foxfire, the world tinged in an eerie green.

She was stunned to be greeted with the same blatant relief Kouga was. But Kouga gave no time for even brief exchanges, pushing them further through the forest. At some point Miyuki forced her onto Kirara, and in the interest of not slowing them down further, she relented, Shizou held fast to her back, Kichirou between them, Shippou dozing fitfully against her stomach.

The sky was growing light again by the time they emerged. Exhausted from the brief fight and the long march through the forest, she tied to keep herself upright and focused.

“We should be fine now,” Kouga rumbled, pausing and looking around them. “There’s a river nearby.”

Ignoring the statement directed at her, she slid down from Kirara, let Shizou drop down and handed Kichirou back to Miyuki and her mate. Giving Kirara a beseeching glance, the firecat walked several steps and, finding an acceptable spot, circled and laid down. It wasn’t until she saw her sleeves that she realized there was still blood everywhere, dried and flaking.

“Go ahead and sleep,” She commanded Shippou, who looked ready to protest. His fang capped yawn answered before he was curling into Kirara’s fur. 

She followed the sound of the running water until she was at the river’s edge, grateful it cut through rock instead of sand or mud, making it easier to get close. The cold reached up from the water itself, only serving to turn her exhaustion chilly. Abandoning any pretense of modesty, she stripped down and washed the blood from her limbs, her face and neck. Over and over until she was certain there was nothing left. She washed her hair next, dunking it in the river’s edge until it ran clear. 

Her clothes were next, the fabric bleeding red into the water as she worked through it again and again, determined to rid it of any sign of violence. Entire body aching, she gave up when there was a faint tinge clinging to the sleeve hems.

“You sound frustrated,” Kouga’s voice observed. Startled, she almost dropped her haori into the ater before setting it aside. Unsure if it was fatigue or his blindness, or even that she’d finally adopted the ookami’s lack of shame, she didn’t bother hiding herself when she got to her feet and accepting her other set of dry clothing.

“Thank you,” She said quietly, pushing her hair behind her shoulder.

“You’re sad.”

“No,” She countered easily, truthfully. “I’m happy we’re all safe.”

The silence stretched between them. The ease she’d had despite her nudity seemed to vanish. Conversely, the act of getting dressed around him felt intimate. Feeling shy, she fumbled with the folds and ties of her clothing, determined to be quick.

“Something’s bothering you.”

Knowing he wouldn’t let it go until she’d spoken, she allowed herself to tell the truth. “I think I'm- I feel like I should feel worse,” She murmured. “They were like me.”

“You and those bastards have nothing in common,” Kouga bit out, the words erupting into the air, stunning her like a blow. “Don't ever compare yourself to those monsters.”

When his anger showed no signs of abating she moved closer to him. “Hey,” she murmured, taking his hand. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

Kouga took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“You did get a little caught up,” She said, a weak chuckle escaping her chest, a product of fatigue. “Thank you.”

Kouga's expression grew confused.

“Trust is precious,” She told him softly. “Yours means everything to me.”

He squeezed her hand, all of the tension leaving his body. 

* * *

“It'll be too cold to do this soon,” Kagome lamented, shivering despite her words. It was already almost too cold, the chill wind cutting through the autumn sun and skating over her skin. 

“Winter, the perfect time to be pregnant,” Miyuki said thoughtfully.

Kagome laughed, long past the stage of being embarrassed by her friend's frankness. “Already considering another?”

“No,” Miyuki told her. “But Shizou is pregnant. And if anyone else were thinking about it, it would be good to get started on it now,” The ookami added giving her a sideways glance.

“I thought winter was for making children?” Kagome challenged. “Being holed up in caves for hours on end-”

“It's not like there's much better to do,” Miyuki chuckled. “Still, more pups for the tribe would be nice.”

“Hmm,” Kagome agreed. “Though all the women pregnant at once. Could you imagine?”

“I think you'd be lovely,” Miyuki told her.

Kagome sputtered, laughing. “I think you have it a bit out of order.”

“Do I?” The ookami asked, fluttering her eyelashes. 

“I think you're baby mad,” Kagome told her. “You should just give that look to Katon and ask him instead of trying to get everyone else to have one.”

Miyuki let out an indignant squawk, splashing her.

Her words lingered, however. She’d never contemplated children, even shied away from thinking too possessively of Shippou, who missed his mother and father every day. After spending so many years a prisoner, she wasn’t sure she would know how to be a proper mother to anyone. 

And yet-

That thought nagged, bordering on traitorous as she bedded down that night, clinging tightly to Shippou.

* * *

The rain was freezing, already coming down in sheets and threatening to grow worse. 

“I can scout overhead with Kirara,” She told Kouga. “I'll take Hakkaku up with me.”

“Be careful, I smell lightning.”

“I will,” She promised, turning Kirara and beckoning to Hakkaku. He climbed up behind her before Kirara launched them all into the sky, carrying them higher. The rain only grew colder the higher they went, the sound thundering around them. The winds picked up, pushing and pulling insistently at Kirara. 

“Tell me if you see anything,” She prompted. “It's difficult for me to catch it with all this.”

“Check down there,” He shouted several minutes later, barely heard over the buffeting winds and rain. She urged Kirara down in the direction he pointed, dropping almost dizzily until she saw the rupture in the ground that could be a cave system of some sort. Hakkaku dropped down before Kirara’s paws even touched the earth, bolting for the entrance. He emerged moments later.

“Is it flooded?” She called out.

“Bone dry,” Hakkaku called back.

“You think we'll fit?”

“It'll be tight, and I don't know about a fire, but we'll fit,” Hakkaku said, climbing back on. She could feel the first telltale shivers, urged them back up to find the pack. Kirara sent up bouts of fire to attract their attention, drawing them closer even as they sought them out.

When everyone finally made it into the cave they began stripping down, most of them shifting to their wolf forms and piling together for warmth. Kagome stripped down, pulled her dry haori on even as she looked around. A peculiar sensation was skittering across her skin, familiarity teasing at her conciousness.

“You okay?” Kouga asked.

“Yeah,” She mumbled, shaking her head. “It's just strange.”

“Strange how?”

“It feels-”

“Danger?”

“No, not that. It's nothing.”

It felt like she'd dreamed of the place before.

Hakkaku bullied her into the tangle of wolves and firecat, impressive considering he was a wolf and could only nudge her with his head and tug at the sleeve of her haori. She gratefully dropped down into the mire, their warmth already seeping into her and banishing the cold of the storm. In turn, their warmth bullied the sensation down until she was asleep.

* * *

The world smelled bright, the rain bruised earth full of clean, sharp scents when they all emerged the next morning. She inhaled deeply, following an overgrown bath, hoping to find a local river or stream. She stopped, the path disappearing into a clearing. The tree dominating the clearing demanded her attention, a sharp sound tangling in her throat, cutting her tongue. 

“What’s wrong?” A voice called out, Miyuki appearing moments later. There were others with her, moving closer to her even as they surveyed the clearing for danger.

“The god tree,” She breathed, only just realizing her eyes were burning, salt stung. She was crying.

“What?”

She ignored the others, breaking into a run.

The dry well was still there, the wood broken down, collapsing.But the darkness dropped down, fed into the earth. They’d thrown youkai into it, once. She and her siblings had gone back for days, waiting for it to disappear like the legends told.

“Kagome?” Kouga’s voice asked.

She realized- The cave. She'd played in it when she was still a child, with Kikyou and her little brother.

“My village isn't far from here,” She told him, staring at the broken remains of the well. “It’s this way,” She said, following a path overgrown and forgotten from the clearing and through the forest. Kouga followed just behind her, allowing her to lead the way. 

When the forest ended, there was only an empty expanse of fields. The years and wars had erased all signs of life, any sign that the village had ever existed at all. Nothing to hint to her life, or that or her family.

“I didn't think I'd ever see it again,” She admitted. “I didn't even know it was in this direction.”

“I'm sorry,” Kouga said, voice quiet.

“If Naraku hadn't captured us, he might have succeeded in his plans,” She said softly. “It doesn't make it better. I don't think anything will ever-” She inhaled, a shaky breath that made her chest hurt. “But I doubt he would have stopped at just having power. Maybe more people lived this way. Other packs, other villages.”

“You're probably right,” Kouga admitted. “What was your brother's name?”

“Souta. He was so shy with everyone else, but he always- He was different with Kikyou and I. It helped, everyone else treated us differently because we were Kaede's apprentices, but he never noticed.” Or he'd been too young to really appreciate how the other children had given them a wide berth. Maybe he hadn't cared. They'd been his sisters, and that's all that had mattered to him. “Some part of me wonders what they would say if they knew.”

“Hmm?” Kouga asked quietly.

“How things turned out for us. My parents, Kaede-” She laughed, thinking of the old woman that had been stern and kind in turn. She’d warned them against all youkai.

“Would tell you you were a disgrace?” Kouga joked.

“No, she wasn't like that. I don't know if she'd be happy, but I think she'd be happy for us. Does that make sense?”

“Not really.”

She laughed again. “It's so strange. I can't imagine this as home, even if it were still standing.”

“What about the village with your sister?”

“I know I should say yes,” She murmured quietly, trying and failing to put homes where they had been. Only fields remained. “But I can't imagine that either. Maybe I'm not supposed to have a home.”

“You deserve one, if you want it.”

“I didn't mean it like that.” Although she had, a little. But it was only a small part. The idea of living in a hut, in the same spot for the rest of her life felt like a prison of it's own. “Do you think home isn’t about places?” She asked quietly, staring at the field where dozens of homes had once existed. 

“Hmm?”

“It’s people, I guess. Home is-” She stopped, feeling foolish.

“Pack,” Kouga said easily, as if it was a simple statement of fact.

* * *

“I didn’t realize there would be more than one pack,” She said, watching Kouga speaking easily with another small pack of ookami. She’d known they’d been heading to one of the few sites the pack considered sacred for another celebration, she’d just underestimated the significance. 

“Others will join us. This moon is a celebration,” Myuki hummed. “We’ll gather dusk to dawn. To honor our gods.”

She’d listened to their stories for the better part of a year. There had been celebrations to honor gods of forests and cave and spring, sky and moon and even the dead. Most of them were quiet things, observed in a matter of minutes, few in a matter of hours. This was the first that would take the entirety of the night.

“Who does it honor?”

“This one is to honor the gods that gave us the goraishi.”

“Kouga’s weapon?”

“It’s older than the tribes, from when we were all one tribe. Only the greatest of our kind can wield it.”

“So Kouga’s a legend?” She teased, but Miyuki surprised her, remaining solemn. 

“He’ll always be remembered as one of the few who was strong enough to wield it, and wise enough to be worthy of it.”

She’d known that Naraku wanted the weapon, but hadn’t given it much consideration. Naraku had collected weapons like trinkets, showering them on children and allies, however temporary. She’d seen and heard dozens of legends, some real, some fabricated. Ultimately, Kouga’s weapon had been a thing, little more.

But the sheer number of ookami that gathered was staggering, driving home that Kouga had accomplished something unusual. Several packs began filling the caves, lounging on the cliffs, drinking, playing games. More than once she caught appraising stares, heard the word ‘wolf’s miko’ uttered. She kept an eye on Shippou, who didn’t have any trouble with the newcomers, speaking to people as if he’d known them his entire life.

When Ayami’s clan found them, she let herself join a conversation between the healers she’d spoken with before, was stunned when others joined them.

When the sun began it’’s descent, she followed Miyuki to the plateua their pack had chosen as their own. She noticed others following suit, still others hanging back, settling down.

She listened to Miyuki tell the stories of their gods, Shippou listening in rapt attention. The night grew deeper,the moon bright over them as the fire grew higher. As the stories changed, the slaughter of their pack unfolding in horrifying detail, she noted Kouga separating from the pack, strolling away.

Even she couldn’t miss herself mentioned, shied away from the visage Miyuki summoned. As the story continued, she found herself unable to continue, slipping away.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Kouga asked as she sat next to him on a cliff’s edge. He had his head tilted up, as if to take in the night sky, the circle of the full moon sitting heavy among the stars.

“Yes,” She huffed. “I do sound like I breathe fire.”

He snorted a laugh. “Myuki’s playing it up for the other packs. A little.”

“Ass,” She huffed, leaning back on her palms. “I knew he wanted it. I just- I didn’t think it was more than just another weapon.” Something she felt foolish for now, given how fiercely Kouga had protected it. With his life, his mind. His sight.

Light flowed along his hand. She had never seen the weapon up close, or even still. Magic pooled in the surface of the metal claws that extended out, lightning trapped along the surface. Despite herself she reached out to touch it, fingertips almost touching the blade before it vanished abruptly, Kouga’s gaze growing haunted.

“Don’t,” He warned, quiet. “It’s sharp.”

“Miyuki said it had to be earned,” She murmured, wondering why he’d grown so quiet. “He never would have been able to find it, would he?”

“No,” Kouga admitted. “I wasn’t even sure I’d-” He stopped. “If I hadn’t met you, I probably never would have found it.”

“I- What?”

“You saved me, saved everyone in the fortress, trusted me to save your sister, the kit,” He murmured. “I couldn’t just leave you there. While your sister looked for the taijiya, I went to find it.”

“You were strong enough without it,” She demurred.

Kouga actually smiled. “They told me I couldn’t have it to save a miko. I’d have to forsake saving you to get it.”

“How-”

“I told them they could go back to hell,” He said, expression brightening, mirth easing the grim lines. “And take the goraishi with them.”

“And they still gave you the goraishi?”

“Dumbest thing,” Kouga laughed, lips splitting into a wide grin. “It’s why they gave it to me.”

“Wolf logic,” She muttered, laughing into her palm. “I can’t believe you said that to your ancestors.”

“Honestly, I thought it was bullshit until Naraku. I don’t even know that I believed it was real until I saw the guardians.”

“And now you’re just as much of a legend as they are,” She reminded him, unable to keep from laughing at his put out expression.

“Not too bad, considering I saved a fire breathing miko.”

She shoved him, biting back a grin as he broke into loud guffaws, the sound echoing around her.

When they finally began to quiet, she sobered, was grateful he couldn’t see her anxiety. “They keep calling me wolf’s miko.”

“Ayami’s people did that. News spread.”

“I’m not-”

“You are,” Kouga said firmly. “It’s a sign of trust, respect.”

She wondered at the idea, that other people, other packs, had seen something like that. That her pack supported it, and her.

* * *

Anxiety twisted her fingers, twitched along her spine as Kouga regarded her, eyes closed, expression drawn.

“We're near the village,” He finally told her. “Half a day.”

She immediately relaxed, unsure of why he’d been so worried. “They won't mind if the pack comes. There are youkai and hanyou living there too.”

Kouga's eyes were closed, though he was facing her. “Alright.”

He didn’t move from her side as they continued, the rest of the pack moving in more closely. The forest gave way to fields, fields to signs of life. Giving Kirara permission, she urged the firecat ahead to alert the village they were coming.

“You didn't go with her.”

“The pack feels tense. I’d rather stay with them until they understand.” 

Kouga nodded, still staying by her side until he huffed a laugh. She saw something appearing, growing closer before she heard her name being called out, over and over again.

“Kagome!” A voice called. Inu Yasha and Kikyou came closer before Kikyou slipped off of her husband's back and waddled towards her. And it was a distinct waddle, Kikyou's swollen stomach evident even under the layers of her clothing.

“You're pregnant,” Kagome said, staring at her sister's stomach.

“Hello to you too,” Kikyou laughed, throwing her arms around her and hugging tightly.

She hugged back, inhaling the stone and earth of her sister. Joy swelled, crashed through her until all she could do was smile against her sister’s cheek. “I'm so happy for you,” She swore, meaning it. She pulled back, turning her smile on Inu Yasha, who looked proud and embarrassed all at the same time. 

“Kouga,” Kikyou greeted warmly. “When Sesshoumaru told me Kagome had begun traveling with your pack, I admit I felt relieved.”

“She's pulled her weight,” Kouga joked lightly.

Kagome was more amazed that Sesshoumaru had passed information of her along instead of Rin doing all the talking, like she'd expected.

“We're going to go hunt,” Kouga told her. “Don't want to show up and eat all your sister's food.”

“Okay.”

“And I can show up the asshole.”

Kagome shook her head and laughed. “Go show off. Just don't kill each other.”

“You're different,” Kikyou murmured, following her gaze as the others disappeared into the forest again.

“It's been a year,” Kagome reminded her sister. “How is the village?”

“We actually do a fair trade,” Kikyou said, not without a hint of pride. “And some of the youkai with a bent towards the earth have eliminated bad crops. It's been an auspicious beginning.”

“I found the village.”

Kikyou nodded, as if she'd expected as much. “I went back once. It's strange, isn't it? How there's nothing there at all.”

Kikyou showed her through the village, the converted buildings that had once housed weapons and smiths full of life, villagers hard at work. Jinenji waved from his place at his hut, smiling brightly.

“He’s happy.”

“He’s to be married,” Kikyou hummed. “Another hanyou.”

Another surge of joy, for someone that had endured Naraku’s fortress finding another piece of happiness. 

When she’d finished showing her the progress the village had made, Kikyou took her to her home, gently bullying her out of her clothes and into the basin for a bath. Kagome allowed her sister to do it, joking lightly about her pregnancy going to her head. 

They joked, which was different for her. Kikyou had never joked before, and her sister’s wry sense of humor was tinged with an earthiness that stunned her. Changing into new clothes, she did accept the new clothing her sister offered.

Despite her happiness, restlessness began to pull at her fingers, her legs until she was up again, practically pacing around the hut as she examined the bits and pieces of her sister’s life.

“Are you ever coming back?” Kikyou asked quietly, as if sensing her disquiet.

Words didn’t fail, but she bit back the no that almost came out, wasn’t sure how to tell her sister the truth. 

“It's okay,” Kikyou said, breaking the tension. “If you can't yet, or-” She heard the sharp inhale before her sister continued. “If you don't want to ever. I understand.”

Shame burned through her. She’d been with her sister for hours, and already she’d hurt her. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. You look better,” Kikyou told her. “Happier than when you left.”

“Kouga and his pack will get tired of me someday,” She joked, trying not to contemplate the eventuality. “I'll come back then, at least for a longer stay.”

“You think so?”

She sobered. “I know I have family here, but they- It's-” She looked down at her hands, the old scars almost lost in the lines of her palms. “It's like a family there too. And they understand being restless, staying in one place too long. I don't want to leave them but-”

“Do you feel like you have to?”

“No, but-”

“Then don't make trouble where there isn't any. They all seem to care for you and Shippou. I'm not sure Sango's never getting Kirara back either,” Kikyou teased lightly, beginning to smile.

She wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve her sister’s understanding, but she was grateful for it all the same. 

* * *

Restless in the confines of the hut, she slipped out into the chilly night air, tugging her haori closer around her. The village itself was mostly quiet, the population asleep. Putting space between herself and the village itself, she began running into the field, breathless joy at her escape carrying her faster until she stumbled, head over foot and landed in the grass that had not yet given into the chill.

“Clumsy,” A voice observed. She laughed, breathless as she accepted his hand up.

“You don't get it yet, do you?” Kouga asked as she dusted off her sleeves.

“Get what?”

He chuffed, shaking his head. “When they call you sister.”

“I-” She stopped. “I was too afraid to call attention to it, that they might stop.”

“If you told them to, back then, they might have. You're stuck now,” He chuckled, then sobered almost immediately. “It's not a joke though. Your one of ours now. You've been one of ours.”

“Oh.”

“We don't want you to go,” He told her quietly, hands moving over her face.

She laughed, a wet, breathless sound, smiling against his fingertips. “I was afraid you'd get tired of me, eventually.”

The kiss was warm and light. She'd seen people kissing, even coupling before. There had been those in Naraku's fortress, furtive gropings and stifled cries, and the pack was unashamed of their activities, not caring if they were caught or heard. But this-

It was warmer than summer air, the feel of his lips lingering even after he'd pulled away.

Like with Jinenji, she hadn't understood, hadn't realized at all what was going on around her, or even inside of herself.

She stood on tiptoe, pressing her lips against his. The light touch grew insistent, the kiss deepening. Unfamiliar, she let him lead it, felt warm shock bloom when his tongue slid over her lip. 

“I should,” Kouga began, pulling away from her. “I should probably go back.”

“No,” She murmured. “I want you to stay.”

Kouga's hand moved over her heart.

“Out here, please.” Under the sky, where she would know it was real.

Kouga's hands pushed her haori off her shoulders, never ceasing their exploration, the healed wounds and the smooth skin. Cold air chilled before his hands soothed and warmed her again, a delicious series of sensations. His body covered hers, a warm pressure that should have felt smothering but made her push up, seeking more of him.

“Stay with me,” Kouga whispered against her shoulder.

Kagome nodded, eyes wide open and heart clenching tightly in her chest. “Always,” She swore.

* * *

“I hope you two are proud of yourselves,” Inu Yasha's voice growled. Kagome peeked up at him even as a possessive hand draped over her waist. “A bunch of the kids stumbled across you and now Miroku's explaining the birds and the bees to them.”

She vaguely remembered Miroku lamenting his misspent youth. “He is qualified.”

“He's going to warp their minds.”

“Asshole, if you don't disappear in the next three seconds, the kids will be getting a practical demonstration,” Kouga rumbled into her hair.

“Get dressed,” Inu Yasha muttered. “Kikyou wants to have breakfast.”

“Go and we'll do that,” Kagome told him, smiling against Kouga's chest. She could feel him trying not to laugh.

“If you hurt her, I'll kill you!” Inu Yasha called out as he walked away.

“Do villagers always get up this early?” He groaned, stretching beneath her, body tensing and arching against hers before relaxing again. She braced her elbows on his chest, immensely pleased at the easy smile that greeted her.

“Most of them are up earlier.”

“No wonder you left,” He joked, hands smoothing over her skin.

The villager’s life of routine seemed stale, confining compared to the life she’d led in the past year. “We are lucky,” She breathed, shy for the sudden gratitude she felt.

“I used to regret,” Kouga murmured, palm sliding of her cheek and fingers cutting into her hair. “That I never got to see you in the sunlight.”

She stopped breathing.

“Then the first time I heard you laugh, it hit me. I thought I'd never hear it. It was- So much more important than seeing you in the light,” He added. “You were laughing and it felt like we'd finally won, and I'd really saved you.”

“We did,” She promised. “You have.”

* * *

They missed breakfast entirely, huddled together in her haori before the sun grew too bright for her to ignore.

“We’ll have to go back eventually,” She reminded him. He groaned into her hair and helped her to her feet.

Their pack was already gathered outside the perimeter, other hunters from the village with them. When they came into view, a cheer rose up from the group, echoing clearly across the field.

“That’s not what I think it is, is it?” She asked quietly.

“Depends how deep in denial you are,” He groused.

“You warned me,” She huffed, leaning into him. “Everyone knows everything.”

Miyuki smiled slyly the moment she saw them. “I knew it,” She announced.

“Oh?”

“Katon said it wouldn't be until we'd settled for the season.”

“We-” Kouga grumbled.

“Take a bath before you try to lie,” Miyuki snorted,not ever letting him finish.

“You wolves have absolutely no shame at all,” Miroku announced. “I like it.”

“You would,” Kagome laughed.


End file.
